A Divine Image
by Precisely-My-Point
Summary: Santana lives with Quinn and Tina in Chinatown, Manhattan. While Santana meets and falls for an easy-going Brittany, Quinn is investigating on the case of Prince Charming – a serial killer looming the streets of New York.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimers: Don't own Glee or any other references to places, cars or anything else._

_There will be side/little/mentions of Quick, Tike, Tartie and Quinntana_

_I'm also not from the US, never mind New York, and have never been (yet) so I honestly don't know a thing. I've researched stuff and hope it's accurate enough, as well as changing all my 'British' terms into 'American' terms to my best ability. If there's anything that's wrong or needs changing, please do leave a message._

_Wai Po = 'Grandma' in mandarin, written as pinyin (how it's pronounced)._  
><em>Ayi = 'Auntie' (as in someone else's parent, not necessarily related) I don't speak mandarin but I do know all about Chinese traditions and culture.<em>

_I wanted Tina to not be mixed or anything, but the surname 'Cohen' had Israeli roots (according to wiki) so her surname is just 'Chang'._

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><p>"Santana?" Tina presses lightly on the door handle, poking her head around to see the lazy girl, face pressed tightly to the pillow whilst sprawled all over her bed, sheets twisted and entwined with her body. Moving to pick up the other discarded pillow from the floor, Tina sits down on the foot of the bed. "Wake up sunshine." Santana groans, forcing Tina to duck when she flings a leg her way in a lazy attempt to be left in peace.<p>

"Fuck off." Familiar with her roommate's hatred for unnecessarily early mornings, Tina rises and steps towards the veiled window. "And don't even think about opening those curtains, Chang. It's far too early to see the ugly faces that are the population of Chinatown." Intentions having been exposed, Tina returns to the edge of the bed, daring to grab Santana's ankle and shaking her gently.

"Come on, it's time to get up."

"No it's not. Last night I was still in surgery at half past midnight. It's Saturday and I'm not on-call for once, thank god. Now go away," Santana half-heartedly pulls her leg away but Tina grips her persistently. "And I'll thank you to not just walk in here without warning next time." Tina laughs good-naturedly.

"Actually, I've been knocking for the past," she glances at the bright digital clock on top of the clustered desk. Originally, Santana had an analogue clock, but two weeks after having brought it, Tina had returned to their apartment from a busy day at the hospital one day and found the remains of the clock, lying shattered against the wall opposite their front door. Apparently, the constant ticking had been 'doing my fucking head in' according to Santana. "nine minutes but you've just been ignoring me."

"Well get a hint then, maybe I want to be left in peace or maybe you just need to let me buy a damn lock." Tina smiles, laying down onto the small sliver of the mattress that Santana hadn't spread out over.

"You know Ma thinks it's dangerous to have locks for bedrooms." Santana snorts besides her, eyes still pressed tightly shut, even though she knew that there was no way she'd actually be able to get back to sleep after having spoken for so long – curse Tina and her sneaky but successful tactics.

"One. I pay my third of the rent so I should be able to do what I want. Two. I don't care that we live in the apartment above her and your ba's successful Chinese restaurant. I don't care that I love her and she _is_ my own Asian mother. Now, despite me having personally handed her the spare key like five years ago and her using it to pop up here every other day, your ma is the one who lives three streets away and I'm the one who lives here when I'm not too busy cutting people open in hospital. Three. We're all 24 years of age, hell Quinn is almost 25, so excuse me for wanting some guaranteed security and privacy the next time I bring some hot chick here overnight. Sticking up a sheet of paper with the words 'don't you fucking dare come in' is really inconvenient." Not the slightest bit deterred by the lecture, Tina simply picks at the slight frays at the hem of her top. By now, Tina was used to Santana's rants and whinges that, despite the length, were only harmless.

"Done?" Tina took the silence as yes. "Well, Wai Po phoned and said she wanted to see us down at Columbus Park-" Santana sits up so swiftly that she almost knocks Tina off of the bed in the process.

"God, why didn't you just say that earlier?" Tina props herself properly onto the now spacious bed, unfazed by Santana's state of undress as she strips off, desperately rummaging the closet for clean clothes (honestly, having known the girl since second grade and moving on through the same middle and high school then going on to study medicine at college together and to now, having lived with each other as well as Quinn for half a decade on top of all that history, there were very, very little things that Santana could do to shock or upset Tina). "What did she want to see us for?" Tina shrugs.

"She said she wanted to give us something but didn't say what though." Santana nods, pulling on a simple pair of grey shorts.

"You do realise that I'm totally Wai Po's favourite grandchild." Tina laughs. She was an only child, but somewhere between the years of growing up with each other since middle school to now being roommates, Tina had picked up a calm, collected blonde older sister and a feisty, witty latina younger sister.

"That's because you're the only one who pretends to listen to her repetitive re-told stories of her youth."

"Which is why I always get the most money at New Year and birthdays," Santana turns around so Tina can see her smirk and wink. Tina throws her head back in laughter as Santana pulls on a plain grey t-shirt that had a low v-neck, revealing her cleavage.

"She's not going to like that," Tina gestures to her chest as she stands up and moves towards the door.

"Eh," Santana shrugs, reaching past her friend to push the door handle, "I bet you ten bucks she won't say a word about it."

"Deal." Santana lightly ushers Tina by the shoulders out of the room and follows her past the living room to the kitchen, where Quinn stood, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in hand and staring intently at the television on the opposite side of the room. Tina heads straight to the coffee pot but Santana decides to move towards the blonde.

"Oi Q, you got any more of that? 'Cause I needs my morning cup-"

"Shh." Santana blinks with hand half outstretched, hovering over Quinn's mug.

"What crawled out of your-"

"Shut up." Eyes still glued to the screen, Quinn nods towards it as Santana rolls her eyes and swirls around to see what could possibly be so fascinating. Even Tina, who stood behind the two, pauses to look up at the television.

_A photo of a brunette with a sexy smirk flashes onto the screen, followed by photos of the same young woman with two German shepherds, then one where she was obviously on vacation somewhere hot with a group of friends._

_"Lauren Chloe Gray was a normal, friendly 23 year old who had been the life and heart of all her friends. Having not had been in a relationship for four years, well-known party girl Lauren was said to have been dating around for a while now. However, Taylor was never reported missing but was found two days ago in the back alleyway of a local convenient store."_

_The images change to a white van behind a police-sealed tape as two people, complete with masks and gloves, lifted an obvious body within a thick black bag into the back of the van. The screen suddenly fills of a nervous-looking middle-aged man who had a cluster of microphones pushed towards him._

_"I was just shutting down the place like any other night I went outside to throw away the garbage and there she lay. I swear it was most bizarre sight – she had on the prettiest dress I've ever seen and a beautiful necklace, skin of a porcelain doll, I tell you, and looked so beautiful and peaceful. Hands, clutching a photo – a photo of herself sleeping actually – right to her chest in the middle of a dirty old alleyway. I shouted to her a few times, but she didn't reply so I went up to her. I swear she didn't have a single mark or bruise on her but when I checked her pulse, she was stone cold, I tell you, absolutely gone."_

_The rush and chaos of different channel cameramen trying to video the body and the alleyway behind the police returns as a voiceover speaks over it._

_"No doubt is this another victim of the serial killer, dubbed 'Prince Charming', who has been terrorising normal, young women all over New York. This would now be the third victim in the past two months. His trademark is that he always leaves his victim in a seemingly innocent slumber, with nothing but a beautiful dress, flawless make up and a photo of the very same victim sleeping contently in a blank, white bed. It is the way, the victim always seem to be just a kiss away from waking up that gave this killer the nickname 'Prince Charming'."_

_The screen cuts to a young man, tall and broad with stern eyes and shaved hair apart from a strip down the middle. The caption at the bottom reveals this man to be 'Investigator Noah Puckerman'. He was walking quickly away but the press persists and follows, just as he arrives to particular black car, he pauses._

_"There are strong proofs that this is the work of Prince Charming, however, any evidence found will be analysed in more depth by our team for more detail. Thank you."_

With a deep frown, Quinn switches off the TV with the remote when it returns back to the presenter at the studio. Frowning and deep in thought, the blonde finally allows Santana to steal her mug.

"Your boyfriend looks horrible on camera, you know. And what sort of statement was that? _'Analysed for more detail'_ – is that supposed to mean something? He didn't say anything useful at all." Quinn rolls her eyes as Tina moves closer to listen in on the conversation.

"Trust you to miss the entire important part and skip straight to the not-funny let's-make-fun-of-Puck bit." Santana shrugs and settles the mug onto the counter to quickly tie her up into a purposefully messy ponytail.

"I try. So come on then, little miss Federal Bureau of Investigation, what's going on with the whole case?" Quinn seizes the opportunity to retrieve back her mug and sips from it.

"You know we only took over on the case two days ago. Besides, there's the whole confidentiality thing where I'm not supposed to tell you guys."

"Aw come on, you've shared stuff in the past and there's no way Mister I'm-26-but-I-think-I'm-so-badass-with-my-landing-strip hasn't told you something." Quinn shakes her head stubbornly.

"I really don't know much." Santana pouts. She then proceeds to nudge Tina who catches the cue and pouts as well causing Quinn to roll her eyes again. "Cut it out, I really don't. Look, I promise when I get the lowdown, I'll tell you guys… _some_ of it, okay?" Santana breaks into a smirk and high fives Tina.

"The sucker always falls for it." Tina laughs and even Quinn has to repress her laughter.

"Excuse me, t_he sucker_ is right here."

"Ha! You just admitted you're a sucker!"

"Yeah, well takes one to know one." Tina smiles as she shakes her head at the way the two playfully glare at each other.

"Honestly, I'm worried about the innocent citizens of New York. Their safety and lives are in unsteady hands. One's an FBI agent, the other is an orthopaedic surgeon, but both are just as crazy and childish as each other."

"Yeah and that attending physician who lives with them really isn't much better, right Q?" the blonde nods feverishly.

"Didn't you hear? She practically cried with happiness when that gorgeous, beautiful blonde roommate of hers brought her the newest Pokémon game for her birthday." Santana slaps on a faux-surprised face.

"Really? I also heard whenever she can't think of a remark or a comeback, she always go back," Santana puts on her eerily similar 'Tina-voice', "'yeah, well… your mom.'" The mischievous pair pauses, waiting for Tina to say something. The instinctive remark that Santana had correctly pointed out was on the tip of her tongue, yet she obviously couldn't say it or it'd prove the other two were right.

"Yeah? Well, your… dad." She finishes lamely, head burrowed deeply in hands with shame as the other two laughs.

"Told you." Tina could do nothing but sulk playfully as her two best friends high five each other.

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><p>Ten minutes later, the trio were finally ready to leave. They stood in the middle of the pavement, waiting for Tina to finish locking up the main door. Tourists, complete with maps, cap and camera whizzes around them, face revealing awe of the oriental displays and Chinese characters. During the years of college, when the three had initially decided to live together, Quinn and especially Santana had received the strangest looks in the neighbourhood. The only non-Asian people that occupied the Manhattan Chinatown were tourists, but one blonde and one latina permanent residents had baffled the sceptical locals. However, over the years, the community relaxes and incorporates them into the tightly-knitted society. They were always invited to go to get-togethers, given food constantly for being too thin (they had lost count on how many 'don't idolise those skinny American girls on TV' talks they've been given) and sometimes had to gently remind people to speak slower. The pair had learnt Mandarin in no time, yet even Tina occasionally had to ask people to repeat when they spoke hurriedly and with uncommon slang.<p>

Having finally locked the door, the trio puts on sunglasses in synchronise, the summer sun beating down onto the city of New York pleasantly. They make their way down the street, waving to Ma, Ba and the other waiters inside the restaurant.

"So Tina, how's Grandpa Wheels doing lately?" Tina laughs at Santana's mocking, as she briefly steps off the sidewalk to allow a tourist, nose deep in a map, past.

"_Artie_ is fine. And so is his dress sense," she adds as an afterthought. Santana scoffs, lifting the sunglasses a little higher and running a hand through her hair.

"Oh per-lease, those dodgy jumpers and high-waist flares were so not hip since… well, _ever_." Quinn rolls her eyes and flings an arm over Tina's shoulder.

"Ignore her; she's had a grudge against Artie ever since that time we made her carry him up three flights of stairs to our apartment since the elevator broke, but it was actually just an April fool's joke." Santana scowls behind her dark rims but even she had to admit it was a pretty good prank in hindsight. At that time, she had found it far less amusing as she stood there, arms aching and out of breath. Needless to say, a lot of curses had been thrown around that day and she's been plotting ever since for her revenge this year. "But really Tina," Quinn squeezes her friend lightly around the neck with her arm, "planning on telling Ma and Ba about him anytime soon? You can't hide behind Mike for the rest of your life."

"Not to mention it's super creepy that you have the same surname. I know you guys say you aren't related but still," Santana shrugs, "seriously creepy."

Tina sighs as they round the last corner; the park was visible now down the end of the street. Tina and Artie have been together for one and a half years now and around their schedules, they've been on many dates, spent weekends together and even went on a holiday to London once for three weeks. Tina really, _really_ liked Artie – he was a goofy, funny guy who cared and treated her well. It was with a heavy heart that Tina had to admit the truth that her parents would never, _ever_ allow them to be together. She knew that in their eyes they only saw a handicapped, IT technician who had no future, couldn't provide their daughter with a comfortable life and was in no way up to her standards. Tina knew that to them, an ideal candidate to date and marry, no doubt, would be someone perfect like Mike Chang. He was tall, polite, came from a respectful family and was an FBI agent too, working steadily besides Quinn as partners. Both parents approved that they matched flawlessly – a fearless agent and his intelligent, doctor wife.

After an awkward barbeque party that Tina had thrown last summer, inviting both family and friends (never will she make the same mistake again), Mike had agreed to cover for the couple and pretend to date Tina. Throughout the entire party, Mr and Mrs Chang had given long, embarrassing lectures to their son about not having a girlfriend and may have to reduce to setting him up on blind dates, loudly for everyone in Chinatown to hear and cringe to. Meanwhile on the opposite side of the grill, the truth about Tina and Artie's relationship had been on the tip of Tina's tongue, before it had fizzled and slid back down to lie heavily in her stomach when she caught the sideway glances of disgust her parents' threw at Artie and their quick, hushed mutters of disapproval of him as even just simple friends with their daughter.

"I really don't even want to think about it, to be honest." The trio steps into the park, tall thick trees providing shade for the crowd of elderly people in the middle practising Tai Chi. "Maybe I'll try to slip him into conversations more often-"

"Santana!" A particular small, grey haired woman breaks rank and waves at the three of them, slowly making her way over to greet them.

"Heeey Wai Po," Santana throws a smug smirk over her shoulder at the other two as she leans down to give her grandma a tight hug. Pulling back, Wai Po was exactly eye level to Santana's low cut chest, yet all she did was frown and shake her head disapprovingly before moving on to greet Quinn, who quickly remove her sunglasses before she is greeted in the same manner. Santana pulls her sunglasses down enough just so Tina can see her wink exaggeratedly.

"So not fair…" Tina mumbles before making a mental note to give Santana her ten bucks when they get back. Wai Po releases Quinn before turning to Tina and hugging her snugly, who despite was her biological granddaughter, was in no way anymore preferred over the other two.

"_You girls are always working so hard and busy saving lives."_ Whilst speaking in Mandarin, Wai Po leads her three grandchildren towards a circular stone bench nearby. _"I made you three soups,_" she gestures towards the two large flasks sitting on the bench. _"Just reheat it and have it for dinner tonight, it'll give you more energy and it's good for your skin too. You need to look after yourselves more – especially you Quinn, those bags under your eyes are rather dark._" Instinctively, Quinn's hands fly to the spot underneath her eyes at Wai Po's blunt words. Santana and Tina immediately burst into laughter before swiftly sobering up at Wai Po's amused expression and lifted eyebrow. _"Tina you're far too pale and Santana, your skin looks awfully dry."_ It was Quinn's turn to laugh loudly whilst the other two splutters about as she subtly high fives her grandma underneath the table.

_"Thanks Wai Po. Thanks a lot."_ Santana runs a hand across her cheek self-consciously, muttering in perfect Mandarin. _"We're going to head for breakfast now, going to join us?" _Wai Po glances back at the other elderly people still moving gracefully to the slow calming music emitting from the radio.

_"Maybe tomorrow, if the three of you can wake up earlier."_ Quinn raises her hands in a don't-look-at-me way.

_"I was awake for ages, but some lazy people refused to get out of bed."_ She looks pointedly at Santana who stuck her tongue out at her.

"_Uh like you didn't wake up earlier just because you knew Puckerman was going to show his ugly face on the news."_ Wai Po chuckles at their childish interactions as Quinn responds with a roll of her eyes. She slowly moves to stand up again, giving each girl a kiss on the forehead.

_"Now you girls behave and get out of here before I tell you a story of three young sisters who weren't obedient. Their family were very rich and spoilt them-_" All of sudden, the trio grabs the flasks and runs out of the park leaving nothing but screams of _'not this story again!'_, _'okay, that's lovely, thanks for the soup'_ and_ 'Bye Wai Po!'_ in their trail and a chuckling grandma in their wake.

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><p>Thanks for reading! Do comment please =] I have completely written the entire story, there are 11 parts all roughly same length and I will post each chapter maybe once a week.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any other references._

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><p>Quinn pushes open the double doors, entering a bland bluish-white room. Disregarding the desks, notes and files, the blonde's eyes immediately focus on the cold, naked body lying on the table. Quinn reaches up to tighten her sleek ponytail; despite having seen far too many dead bodies in her years, the nauseous feeling over being so close to one never quite goes away. Tearing her eyes away from the corpse (the victim was much paler, skin almost chalky than in the photos shown on TV. Now that all the makeup was removed, Quinn could see the patches of bruises around the neck and running up and down her arms, which were lying on top of the cloth covering her from chest downwards), Quinn glances at the tall man standing besides the table, his back to her and too absorbed in the file in his hands to notice her arrival. Quinn clears her throat a little when she reaches him.<p>

"Investigator Puckerman." The said-man's head flies up, but his facial expression softens upon seeing who it is.

"Oh hey babe, you're earlier than I expected." Quinn's eyes widen as he leans down to kiss her. Quickly, she takes a step back to avoid the action, far too aware of the body less than a metre away from them.

"What are you doing?" Not dejected at all, Puck smirks a little and goes in for another kiss, only to be shoved back by the blonde. "Stop it!" Her hands instinctively move to smooth her ponytail again, eyes darting towards the double doors. Not only was it incredibly disgraceful if they were caught doing anything other than work in a mortuary of all places, no one in any of the workforces knew that the two were a couple – there would be far too much hassle, mockery and words like 'unprofessional' would be thrown around behind backs and to faces (Quinn had been there, done that and got the other girl fired eventually).

"Oh come on, who the hell will come to a morgue at nine in the morning?" Puck laughs and gestures around, "apart from folks like these of course." Quinn shivers, sending up a silent prayer apologising, before slapping Puck hard around the arm.

"I am warning you once last time Noah. We are here to work." Puck rolls his eyes, lips twitching to the side as his mood slips due to his girlfriend's scolding.

"Fine, whatever _Agent Fabray_." His face returns to a stern, focused expression as he hands over the relatively thick folder in his hands. Quinn flips through the pages, coming upon various photos, comments, and telephone times – all the usual things that Quinn would expect to be in a morgue file. She continues to skim through the pages, vaguely aware of Puck giving her a brief background to the victim, before one photocopied sheet catches her attention. Quinn moves towards the desk to place the profile down, pulling out the particular piece of paper before dog-earing another page so she knows where to return it.

"What is this?" She twists the paper around for Puck to see. His eyes flick over the single line on the page before walking to the desk and picking up another file with the name **'SARA CARMEN CASTILLO'** scrawled on the top. Quinn waits patiently as he rummages through and pulls out another sheet. (She cringes slightly at the name, although Tina hadn't really known her, the victim had worked at the same hospital Tina and Santana were located at. Quinn could still recall how shaken up Tina had been when the death was publicised.)

"This was from the first victim." He gives her a different photocopied sheet before searching through another folder, named **'TAYLOR CHELSEA ANDERSON', **and handing over yet another piece of paper. "And that's from the second victim." Quinn lays the three sheets next to each other on the desk. Each sheet had nothing more than one line, less than five words of printed text on it, however, the words rung bells in the back of Quinn's mind.

"They're quotes," she frowns as she wracks her brain, certain that she had come across this before, "from a song?"

"Close – a poem." The recognition snaps across Quinn's brain, she identifies the lines immediately; she had studied it before in English lessons briefly in high school.

"It's _A Divine Image_." Quinn looks over at Puck who moves next to her and leans against the table, "by the famous poet William Blake."

"Bingo." Her heart beats oddly fast; eyes flickering and taking in the words across the page.

_Cruelty has a human heart,  
>And Jealousy a human face;<br>Terror the human form divine,_

"Where are these from?" Quinn makes a mental note to research and refresh her memory on the poem when she gets back to her office. As she pulls out a notebook and pen to write down all her discoveries, Puck tilts his head to the forgotten body on the table behind Quinn.

"All the victims were found holding a photo of them sleeping, but concealed in their fists was a strip of paper with a single line on. Printed on everyday paper with normal ink – impossible to trace, but that sick bastard is definitely trying to tell us something here."

Quinn couldn't repress the shiver of unease and disgust. She had arrested many killers, seen many corpses in far worse states, yet all these past accounts seemed so minuscule and uncoordinated compared to this case. The previous serial killers that Quinn had dealt with never went through all the troubles to ensure the girl was dressed to perfection, had flawless makeup and not a single hair out of place or a scratch on her skin.

"Apart from this poem, is there anything else that I should know about?" The blonde glances at her watch, conscious that she was to notify back soon to her partner, Mike Chang, about any findings.

"No that's about it, for now." Quinn nods and returns the notebook back to the inside of her blazer.

"Okay, thanks. Call my work number if there's any update." The blonde had made it to the door before Puck calls her.

"Oh and Quinn," with one hand still on the door handle, she twists her head to give him half her attention, "you know you were going to go out to Q2 tonight with the girls? Mind if I join? I haven't had Thai food in ages." Quinn smiles gently.

"Of course you can." Puck glances at her nervously when her smile doesn't falter.

"What?" He runs a hand from the base of his neck and up his mohawk. "The food is good there and I get to be present in case Santana gets drunk and decides to recount any hot chick sex she's having." He shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal, but secretly, he knew that Quinn saw through his nonchalant excuses, covering up the fact that all of sudden he felt the danger of the city and wanted to look out for her (and by extent, her family who were her roommates).

"Pick us up at half six, Puckerman."

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><p>"Reservations for four, under the name Lopez." The waitress looks at the reservation book in front of her as Santana drum her fingers on the desk impatiently. She knows very well that Quinn was scowling at her back (she can easily feel the flames of her glare burning the back of her head) but she had had the most hectic, tiring day and just could not be bothered with manners. Santana's eyes scan the packed restaurant, having known the waitress's reply before she even opens her mouth.<p>

"I'm sorry miss, but there seems to be some sort of problem. Would you mind waiting for a few minutes whilst we get a table sorted? Drinks will be on the house." Despite the promise of free drinks, hunger along with irritation and general fatigue flares through Santana, however, luckily for the waitress, Tina presses down on Santana's shoulder.

"That's fine, thanks for the help." Tina carefully ushers her friend away who had to grit her teeth tightly so as not to lash out on the waitress. Santana throws herself onto one of the chairs as the other three occupy the other ones to her left. There was a brief jostle where Puck tries to pull his girlfriend onto his lap, only for Quinn to slap the back of his head, scolding him about 'inappropriate behaviour in public.' Before Santana could think of a smart retort, a light tapping interrupts her chain of thoughts. She hadn't even realised that there was someone next to her.

"I like your shoes." While her colourful Vans were being inspected, Santana looks over this girl next to her. She had short stylish strawberry blonde hair with side bangs sitting on top of large nerdy glasses that magnified her blue eyes. Santana's eyes continue to travel down and take in the plaid shirt complete with white tie, tight black shorts, leggings and cream lace ups. Santana has a love/hate relationship with girls like these; they were too cute to pass up on, but eight times out of ten they were actually straight… then again, it's not like that's stopped Santana before.

"Thanks." Santana smiles in a friendly way. "Your bracelet is really pretty too." She reaches out to touch the other girl's wrist but keeps her eyes trained onto her reactions. Santana smirks when she catches the slight pink rising in her cheeks.

"This girl got it for me." The smirk falters slightly.

"Girlfriend?" The girl hesitates, eyes flicking around the restaurant briefly, before answering.

"Sort of," Santana retracts her hand quickly – one thing she was not, was a home wrecker. The other girl notices and backpedals immediately. "But not really. Like, we're dating a bit but I'm not really interested anymore. She's a killer in bed but is too weird for me." Santana gives her a flirty laugh, carelessly throwing the hand back onto the wrist, ignoring Quinn's painful kicks to her shin.

Unfortunately, just as Santana edges a little closer, the waitress returns announcing that their table was ready. Puck and Tina follow the waitress whilst Quinn attempts to tug Santana away. Quickly grabbing a pen off of the pocket of a passing waiter, the girl grabs Santana's arm and scribbles down a phone number. The girl doesn't even have a chance to write her name before Santana gets dragged away by Quinn.

"Cut it out Fabray, stop shoving me," Santana knocks Quinn's hand from her lower back to no avail. They slip between waiters, tables and other customers as Quinn continues to roughly guide Santana to the back of the restaurant where Tina was waving at a small table.

"You would have just gone home with a complete stranger if I didn't hold you back._ You have absolutely no dignity – it's disgraceful_." Santana scoffs; unfazed by Quinn's sudden switch to mandarin (whenever the blonde was overtly emotional, she always fluctuates between the two languages).

"Oh per-lease I was just flirting." Quinn all but throws Santana into the chair next to Tina so Santana's back was facing the rest of the restaurant, before moving to sit in the sofa seat against the wall opposite Santana and next to her boyfriend. "And why do you always care so much? Not still hung up over me, are you? 'Cause what we had was hot but it felt far too incestuous to me." Luckily for Puck, Quinn misses the perks up and a lewd grin appears on his face as she pretends to vomit over the side of the table.

"First of all, we were in high school and we only dated for a bit over half a year. I seriously don't know why we even lasted that long-"

"Because the sex was groundbreaking?" Quinn scowls at Santana's faux-innocent expression and without looking, she slaps Puck's arm instinctively.

"Ow! What was that for?" Quinn moves her glare to aim at her boyfriend.

"Like you weren't thinking of disgusting things." Puck grins.

"Oh trust me babe, they are far from disgusting- ow! Okay, sorry!" Quinn shakes her head at Puck as he nurses his arm before returning back to Santana.

"Anyways, and number two. Despite the fact we each have en-suite bathrooms; somehow we keep on ending up sharing towels which is highly revolting as it is. I'd rather not catch Chlamydia just because you are irresponsible and like to get it on with random strangers."

"You can't actually get Chlamydia from sharing towels." Quinn brushes away Tina's chip in comment with a flick of her wrist.

"That's besides my point. I want to be clean. I want the apartment to be clean. You live inside the apartment so you have to be clean too." A silence falls over the table, only the background noise of people talking in the rest of the restaurant could be heard.

"Does her OCD turn you on or something Puckerman? Right now I'm feeling weirdly-"

"Santana!" She raises both her hands with palms facing forward in a clear _okay, relax _type of way.

"Fine, fine, calm down mamacita." Santana takes Tina glass of water and trickles a little over her arm. Using her napkin, she then scrubs at her arm before soaking up the water spilt on the table. "Happy now?" Santana brandishes her patchy red arm, the previous numbers absolutely removed from her skin.

"Yes." Quinn leans forward and runs her hand over the abused skin, unable to not feel guilty for being the cause of it. Tina smiles sweetly at the pair, as if it were two newborn puppies in front of her. Puck on the other hand, fixates his eyes on Quinn's movement, beaming brightly from the affectionate display.

"So… have you two kissed and made up then? Because I haven't seen any kissing yet-" The simultaneous slaps to his head was totally worth it.

* * *

><p>Quinn reaches over Santana's feet on her lap to grab the remote. She mutes the TV and glances to Tina's room, where her raised voice could be heard from inside, albeit muffled by the firmly shut door. Quinn nudges Santana's leg until the horizontally sprawled girl looks away from the TV to her lazily. The blonde indicates towards the door with her head.<p>

"Who is she talking to?" Quinn whispers. Santana shrugs indifferently before taking the remote to turn the subtitles on so she can at least know what's going on.

Before Quinn can chide her for the clear lack of care, the muffled shouts suddenly cease, leaving the flat in an uncomfortable, eerie silence. The blonde waits patiently for five minutes, before pushing Santana's feet from her lap so she could move towards the door. Quinn pauses with a hand in the air, ready to knock on the door, before she reconsiders and heads towards the kitchen. Retrieving Tina's favourite fat mug that had a stethoscope and the words 'trust me, I'm a doctor' on it, Quinn pours out hot chocolate that she had made earlier that morning into the mug before throwing a generous amount of petit marshmallow into the hot brown liquid. Nodding to herself, the blonde once again moves towards Tina's door slowly with the full mug in one hand, this time actually knocking on the wooden door.

A soft 'come in' allows Quinn to enter the room, where she finds Tina sitting on the bed, her back against the headboard with legs stretched out in front of her. Tina made no efforts to hide the fact that she had been, and still was a bit, crying or the carelessly thrown away phone that lay near the foot of the bed. Quinn doesn't say anything, only nudges the door shut with her foot as she hands the mug over (Tina smiles with appreciation) and sits down next to Tina, mirroring her position completely. For a while, the two friends sit in peace apart from the light sipping noises. They continue to enjoy the comfortable silence before the door opens again and Santana enters; she doesn't make eye contact or any effort to do anything but just hurls herself on top of her friends so she was lying on Tina with her head in Quinn's lap and feet dangling off the edge.

"He wants us to move in together." So it was Artie then. Santana nods mentally – now she knows whose legs she needs to fix so she could re-break them again. "So I asked him where this sudden decision came from," Tina takes in a deep breath, "I didn't even say yes or no, but then he started to accuse me of actually cheating on him with Mike. I know he's upset, but he said a lot of bad things… especially about Ma and Ba."

The muscles in Santana's arms twitch instinctively. If only she paid attention to Four-eyed McSweaters when he spoke, then she would have some idea as to which house she needs to burn down. One of Quinn's hands move away from their previous position of playing with Santana's hair to pat Tina's leg supportively.

"Tina… you have to ask yourself, is he really worth all this secrecy and trouble that you go through just being with him?" Santana grits her teeth to allow Tina time to think about Quinn's question without her own opinions being blurted out.

"I honestly don't know." Santana jumps out of the bed and flings open the doors of Tina's closet.

"That's it. We're going clubbing tonight." Santana rolls her eyes when Tina looks on unsure whilst Quinn has her eyebrows knitted and lips pressed into a thin line in a clear _I'm not too sure about this_ manner. "Look, we're all actually off-call tomorrow too so we can get smashed tonight and not have to worry about it. Come on, we'll have a good time," Santana stops browsing through the clothes to turn around and give an over-exaggerated puppy dog impression, causing the other two to burst out in laughter.

"Okay, but I refuse to pay for anything." Tina smiles cheekily and not that Santana would ever admit to it, but something in her chest loosens a little at the sight. Ignoring the mushy, caring part of her that wants to hug the shit out of her friend, Santana swirls back around to flick through the clothes.

"But seriously girl, we needs to go shopping for you first."

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><p><em>Sorry still no Brittany but promise she'll come up in the next one :) Also fanfiction is being weird and I can't reply to any reviews because 'the link is outdated' : but hope you all will keep reading + reviewing, thanks!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or any other references_

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><p>Santana hums a little to the song playing on the speakers as the trio browse through the racks of dresses, in search of a suitable one for their newly maybe-single roommate.<p>

"Hey, how about this one?" Santana pulls out a white, very short dress with thin straps. Tina eyes the dress before giving Santana a funny look.

"For me or for you?" Santana breaks out into a grin and lifts her shoulders whilst tilting her head.

"You know me too well," Quinn smiles a little but still rolls her eyes.

"Why don't you go try that on and I'll be the responsible friend and look for a decent dress _for Tina._" Santana sticks her tongue out at Quinn as she walks past her on the way to the dressing room. (And to be completely honest, after that phase of wanting in on those pastel-coloured cardigans and knee-length skirts Santana knew with the upmost reluctance that Quinn had always had a better dress sense than her. Santana tend to vary between sneakers-and-jeans casual and miniskirts-and-heels flashy depending on her mood; meanwhile, Quinn always maintained an elegant, classy look whenever.)

"Hey, sorry." Santana does a double take on the girl blocking her just in front of the changing rooms. Her shimmering blonde hair was tied back in a loose high ponytail, make up was discreet but perfect and an obviously flawless body was hidden behind a tight royal blue tank top, three-quarter grey sweatpants and matching grey sneakers. (If Santana was going to continue this honesty thing, she would come to realise much later that she had half fallen in love with her upon first sight.)

"Hi." Santana turns on her charming smile instantly.

"I was going to buy a gift for a friend," the girl tilts her head towards the jewellery display next to them. "But I couldn't find-"

"A suitable gift?" The blonde girl smiles.

"A suitable friend." Santana gets caught between wanting to grin like an idiot and wanting to laugh at the odd, unexpected end to the sentence.

"Okay… and what do you want me to do?" Santana carelessly places the white dress in her hands back into a random rack (she already has lots of similar ones anyways).

"Just to let me borrow your neck to try on these pendants, you can have it back in ten minutes," Santana flips her hair back over her shoulder.

"Anything for a pretty face." The girl's eyes snap up to Santana's flirty confident ones, a small smile playing at her lips. The blonde stays quiet as she picks up one particular necklace and lifting it up to Santana. Quickly, Santana bunches up her hair with both hands to expose her neck.

"I'm Brittany by the way, Brittany Pierce." Santana fails as she tries her hardest not to break out into goose-bumps when Brittany brushes across the back of her neck as she fiddles with the clasp.

"Santana Lopez." She also fails at trying her hardest not to stare at the blonde's lips that were hovering less than an arm's length away.

"That's cute. Where are you from?" Finally secure, Brittany moves her hands to rest on Santana's shoulders as she tilts her head, gazing intently at the penchant. All of a sudden, Santana could not be more aware of her low v-neck top she was wearing. (She may or may not have jutted her chest out a little more.)

"Born and bred in the Big Apple, of course. Your accent tells me you're not from around here." _And there's no way I wouldn't remember you if I've seen you around,_ Santana adds mentally. Brittany shakes her head as she unclasps the pendant and replaces it with another one.

"I just moved to the city but I'm originally from Lima in Ohio." Brittany doesn't even tie up this one before she crinkles her nose in distaste and moves on to another.

"Never heard of the place; so why are you here then?" Santana's arms were starting to feel tired from having lifted them up for so long but she ignores the ache, subtly flexing as an attempt to wake her muscles up. Brittany glances at Santana subtly before shrugging.

"Work among things." Brittany hooks up the back and fully retracts her hand away.

"Did you bring a boyfriend?" The blonde looks up from the necklace to Santana. She smiles and shakes her head as she gently pries away Santana's hands, encouraging her to let her hair fall back down, "or a girlfriend with you?" Brittany's smile doesn't falter as she smoothes down Santana's thick mane with one hand, the other still holding onto Santana's one.

"Neither. This one is really nice, what do you think?" Santana's eyes don't move away from the electric blue ones in front of her.

"It's lovely. So are you here all on your own then?" Brittany shrugs and nods simultaneously.

"I can be your guide then, if you'd like." Santana pouts slightly when the blonde breaks their joint hands so she could unlink the necklace.

"I'd like that a lot." Santana smirks, only for it to slip into a genuine smile when she sees the bright grin on Brittany's face.

"Okay well, give me your phone." Brittany places the penchant back onto the stand briefly, so she could retrieve her phone from her sweatpants' pocket. She presses a few buttons before holding it out to Santana.

"Here," Santana takes the phone (it was one of the most basic phones Santana has ever seen people still use – all it had was the simple calling and texting with color) and punches in her number before sending herself an empty text message so that she would have Brittany's number.

"Done and dusted." She hands back the phone to Brittany. "Just give me a call whenever and I can show you all the best places in the city."

"Cool, thanks." Brittany leans in to press a chaste kiss on Santana's cheek. (She almost turns her head to press those lips against her own, but that would seem needy so Santana decides to act cool and allows those lips to meet her cheek instead.) Picking up the pendant, Brittany starts to walk away towards the cash register.

"So I'll see you around then?" Santana shrugs nonchalantly but smiles afterwards before swivelling around and returning to her roommates, making sure not to turn around to look back even once.

Tina and Quinn were staring at her by the door; in Quinn's hands were two store bags and in Tina's were Quinn's shoulders. She was actively gripping and holding Quinn back who looks like she would have otherwise flew across the shop to tear Santana away.

"Hola chicas," Santana tries to peer into the bags, "any luck then? 'Cause I certainly had some." Despite Quinn having managed to squirm free her shoulders, Tina stood with eyes switching between the two, ready to jump into action and hold the blonde back from mauling the other girl.

"Dear Lord and Father of mankind, please give me the strength to not throttle one Santana Lopez who, regardless of my constant-"

"Hey Santana!" The trio turn to see Brittany, having paid for the necklace, quickly cross the store towards them. Quinn couldn't deny that the tall blonde in front of them was unbelievably attractive. Unfortunately, now she could do nothing but glare at her annoying friend who refuses to stop smirking at her since Santana caught her giving Brittany the once-over.

"Hey, Brittany this is Tina and Quinn." The bubbly blonde gives them both a wide smile and an excited wave.

"Nice to meet you two," Brittany turns towards Santana and pulls out a small box from the store bag in her hand, "this is yours." Santana raises her eyebrow in a frighteningly Quinn-like way.

"Are you serious?" She had assumed Brittany was joking earlier about finding a suitable friend and everything; however the blonde nods sincerely and offers the box.

"I told you, it's for you." Normally Santana would be wary about accepting things from strangers (who was she kidding, she always took what anyone would willingly offer her), but the genuine, kind spark in those blue eyes numbs Santana's sense of caution. (Not to mention whenever Quinn gives her the look that states clearly _don't you dare missy,_ she was physically unable to stop herself from doing whatever it was.)

"Is this how you get all the girls?" Brittany laughs as she transfers the little box onto Santana's open palm. "Look, we were going to go on a night out tonight so if you-" Having reached the very, very pinnacle of her patience, Quinn throws the bags at Tina before grabbing Santana and holding her in a firm arm lock that she utilises against struggling criminals all the time. "Ah, what the fuck? Get of me Fabray! You're hurting me."

"We're leaving – now." Allowing Santana no time to at least say goodbye, Quinn ushers them both out of the door, leaving Tina to throw back a quick 'so sorry, nice to meet you, bye!' before she too quickly exited the store so Brittany was alone with only her confusion to accompany her.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Tina sits in the back seat of their car with her new dress on, thinking of ways to defuse the icy tension between the fiery latina in the passenger seat and the stubborn blonde driving. (Technically it was supposed to be a joint car for the three of them; however, Tina liked cycling around the city, Quinn was the one who actually looked after the car and drove it the most whilst Santana liked the using the car too… only if she was chauffeured around by Quinn, otherwise it was the subway or a taxi for her.) Having failed to come up with some sort of truce the entire car journey, Tina groans and stares out the window at the bright lights of the various buildings and cars passing by.<p>

"Come on guys, I thought we were going out to have a good time. You know, to cheer _me_ up. Instead, you've both just ignored each other from the second we stepped out of the shop, to when we got home to get changed and up to now. Are you guys done yet? Maybe you two do need to get married, if you're going to continue giving each other the silent treatment like this." Tina doesn't even need the mirror to know that they were both sporting a look of disgust.

"Okay, firstly – ew. Secondly – so ew. Would people please stop supporting incest, it's disgusting and illegal. Thirdly – it's not my fault; she's a bitch and keeps embarrassing me in front of all these potential lays." Quinn makes a noise at the back of her throat as she rolls her eyes, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"God! I am so sorry Santana. Really, I don't know why I did this. I guess it's probably because I've got a big _lesbian_ crush on you! Suck on that!" Silence falls again in the car for a brief moment, before the trio bursts out into laughter simultaneously.

"Still funny every time." Tina comments, as she wipes away a tear of amusement, cautious not to smear her makeup.

"Oh god, laughing hurts my arm," Santana tries to reign in her bouts of giggles whilst wincing as she repositions her sore limb. Quinn glances guilty at her as the laughter dies down (maybe she didn't have to be so forceful when she executed that arm lock).

"You'll be fine, pussy." Quinn raises an eyebrow when she was met with no response. "What, that was an open target Santana, no witty comments?" She watches amusedly at the way Santana moves her neck with a finger raised up (No matter how hard she tries, Quinn will never be as ghetto as Santana can be).

"Please girl, you know I'z be going to get me some with just one hand," Tina observes quietly at her two friends in front of her, exchanging friendly banter. They argue and deliberately annoy each other, but Tina knew that at the end of the day, they always had each others' backs.

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><p>The dampened music that could be heard on the outside of the club was nothing compared to the humming and pounding that could be felt in their chests with each beat. Santana feels adrenaline run through her as they stepped past the threshold; she absolutely loved clubs – from the loud, thumping pulses to the swirling neon lights shining on the flow of bodies moving against each other. Santana especially loved this one in particular; it was a mixed club and had the best music which meant she could enjoy the company of guys around her without them commenting or trying to join in as she grinds with a random chick.<p>

Quinn taps Santana's shoulder and points to a rare empty table near the back. Santana nods with understanding and gestures towards the bar. Quinn nods back and disappears along with Tina in the midst of the bopping mass.

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><p>Santana loses count on how many glasses and shots they each had. She was vaguely aware of Tina being pulled out to dance by a cute guy somewhere around half an hour ago, which left Quinn pouting and demanding Santana to dance with her. It feels oddly like a flashback to Santana, if she closes her eyes and just loses herself, she could pretend that they were still seventeen or eighteen years old, using fake id to get into clubs. However, not only did she not want to, but the feeling was too different to the way it was back then. The two were dancing incredibly close together, but Quinn's hands were on her waist and not all over her ass like they used to be. Santana's own ones were running through blonde hair, but it was a play-flirty gesture and wasn't accompanied with any seductive smirks. It wasn't long before another soft, feminine body starts to really grind down on Santana's backside. Santana swirls around to face the hot brunette in front of her, semi-aware of Quinn twirling her hips into someone else behind her.<p>

Songs blend into each other, distorting Santana's sense of time even more. All she could feel were the hands lingering on the bare thighs and hear the pants in her ear that were synchronised with the thumping rhythm. She was ready to grab the teasing hands and move them that bit higher when somehow, she instinctively recognises a dry heaving sound behind her despite the pounding baseline. Eyes flying open, Santana shoves her dance partner away from her and turns to see Quinn leaning forward on her knees as another confused girl pats her back awkwardly. Santana untangles herself before moving towards her friend, pushing away Quinn's previous dance partner who looks pleased that she doesn't have to deal with the unwell blonde before quickly making her escape.

"Quinn? Quinn, stand up properly for me guey." Santana mentally backhands herself five times; she _knows_ Quinn a super lightweight, she _knows _she cannot hold her liquor whilst moving too much, Santana knows yet she still hadn't kept a good eye on her. And now, obviously Quinn had got into some freaky dance with another person and is proceeding to want to vomit all over the busy dance floor.

"I… Santana-" Quinn heaves again but luckily nothing actually comes out. Santana crunches her nose a little at the noise, but leads a shaking Quinn towards their table.

"Water or air?" The lighting was already confusing due to the flashing beams but Quinn was looking even greener than the bright neon glow lights on the wall. Unable to reply, Quinn simply shakes her head. Pressing a hand against the blonde's forehead, Santana makes the decision for her. "Okay well, I'm going to take that as air." Swiftly, Santana sifts through Quinn's purse (well hidden in a secret compartment behind the table) to pull out a lipstick and quickly writes on a slightly folded tissue (she also found that in the purse and prayed that it was clean) so Tina would know where they went. Tucking the message underneath a glass, Santana swings the purse over her arm before pulling one of Quinn's arms around her shoulders and all but lifts her up to her feet.

"Not so quickly." Wrapping the other arm around her waist supportively, Santana waits patiently for Quinn to stop looking like she was a second away from giving her stomach acid and all those drinks she had earlier to the lucky guy dancing close to them.

"We'll go out the back door and if there are any couples getting freaky in that dingy, completely unhygienic alley way, then I give you permission to puke all over them, okay?" Quinn gives a feeble glare at Santana for trying to ease her mind when she feels like it wouldn't only be laughter that will come out of her mouth.

Allowing Quinn to fully lean on her, Santana guides them around the mass of dancing bodies, sticking to the edges and the wall. She gets elbowed a couple of times and gets groped twice as many times but Santana continues walking, forcing herself not to turn around and slap away whoever's hands they were. It takes a while, with the slow pace and constant stopping for Quinn to have a breather but eventually they make it past the corridor full of toilets and private rooms and reach the fire exit door. Not caring if it sounds an alarm, Santana pushes down the bar with her free hand and nudges the door open, instantly met by the cool summer breeze and cars speeding past on the main street to their left covering the quieter sounds of music behind them. Gently, Santana eases Quinn into leaning against the wall, wiping away beads of sweat on her friend's forehead as the blonde gulps in the much needed fresh air.

"Better?" Quinn nods, "Good because you don't look it. I think we should find Tina and call it a night." Santana pauses, something in the right corner of her provisional catching her attention. The alley was beyond dark with only a dim streetlight on the main street behind them as a source of light. Eyes squinting, Santana takes a step closer, positive that she can see something odd.

"What are you doing?" Santana waves Quinn's question away with a hand, continue to slowly move further into the alley. Dread starts to build at the base of her spine but Santana ignores it along with the instinct to turn away and leave. Pressing on, Santana reaches into Quinn's purse, still over her shoulder, and pulls out the blonde's phone. She quickly adjusts the settings so the backlight is on brightest before flashing it down the alley. The light reveals a collapsed person lying on the ground. Santana stands up straighter, breathing out a relieved sigh she didn't know she had been holding in.

"Its fine Quinn, just some drunken girl who couldn't hold her-" The dread pummels back with twice as much force, paralysing her entire spine and brain. A hand falls on her shoulder and usually Santana would jump and snap at Quinn for sneaking up on her like that, however she barely even registered it, absorbing the somewhat familiar features of the girl in front of her.

"You're scaring me, what is it?" The end of Quinn's question trails off when she gazes over to where Santana was still shakily shining her phone onto. The roles reverse instantly – Santana feels overflowed by the waves of nausea, practically able to taste the bile already in her throat, yet Quinn sobers up immediately, her training and work kicking into action instinctively. "Santana," Quinn keeps her voice soft and slow. She gently pushes at her shoulders until the pale, shocked girl was facing her, "I need you to go inside and find Tina. Go home, take a long hot shower and try to get some sleep. Can you do that for me?" Across the years, Quinn had never really witnessed Santana so petrified before. All she can manage is a curt nod before Quinn has ushered her back into the building through the fire exit.

"Qui- Quinn." The blonde soothingly pats the hand gripping hers tightly and slides the purse off of Santana's shoulder along with retrieving the phone off of her.

"Get Tina and go home. I'll be back in the morning at the latest. I need you to do this for me, honey." Quinn gives her shaken up friend a small smile before she eases the door shut. Calmly, Quinn swaps the phone with her work one in her purse before punching in some numbers. As the call gets connected, she can't help but take in the body lying so perfectly on the ground. Despite the darkness, Quinn's adrenaline rush seems to have enhanced her eyesight, now able to see the beautiful, knee-length dress, the immaculate short hair and the exquisite jewellery running up and down delicate arms that were crossed carefully across the girl's chest with a small square photo clutched in her hands.

"Quinn?" Taking comfort in Mike's deep voice, the blonde closes her eyes briefly, the image still burned onto the back of her eyelids.

"You need to get here quick – there's been another victim."

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><p><em>Dun dun dun... remember to review, thanks!<em>


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or any other references_

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><p>Santana's a surgeon. Surgeons and sleep goes together like an egg and an egg whisk – it was a forbidden type of love. The longest record Santana had of not sleeping was 32 hours (she had made up for it for practically falling into a coma for the next few days). Because of the chaotic and weird schedule (she has to go into the operating theatre at absurd times like two in the morning, go home and rest for two more hours before returning to the hospital at four for more surgeries), Santana loves sleep. She slept at every opportunity and was a very deep sleeper.<p>

But that night Santana did not get a wink of sleep. She's seen dead bodies before, even opened them up during the years of learning at college. Despite witnessing and come into contact with blood, limbs that were decaying and organs that were green and had pus flowing out of them on a day-to-day basis, none of that even fazes Santana. However, she wasn't sure if it was the eerie flawlessness of the body, or the very fact she absolutely _knows _who that girl was, but there was something about the corpse that she mistakenly found that made her more terrified of anything she's ever seen.

Santana shivers and draws the comforter tighter around her as she sobs quietly. Not entirely sure how it happened, She had managed to locate Tina in the club last night and made her drive them home. She hadn't said a single word to Tina, only quickly changing in her room before jumping into Tina's bed. The worried friend had only asked one question the entire time ('where is Quinn?' Santana only replied with a shake of her head) before slipping into the other side of the bed, hoping her presence behind her was enough to calm her shaking friend.

Santana traces the second hand on the clock on the bedside table with her eyes, breathing in time with Tina's light snores. At exactly 6:21 and 42 seconds, Santana could hear the rustle of keys and the front door opening. Cautious not to wake her friend, Santana creeps out of the bed and opens the bedroom door to witness Quinn collapse onto the couch, still in that short dress that she wore the night before, only with a men's coat on that Santana vaguely recognised that it belongs to Mike. Santana stands for a little while, wiping away at the tears down her face, watching the tired blonde who was sprawled over the couch with a hand thrown over her eyes. Quinn's head immediately flies up at the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut. They take in each other's mirrored exhausted expressions as Santana notices the heavy bags under Quinn's eyes whilst the blonde notices the tell-tale redness around Santana's eyes. Frankly, neither could tell who looked worse off.

"Santana," Quinn's whisper breaks Santana's trance. The tears blur her vision instantly as she moves towards her friend and adjusts their positions until Quinn was still lying horizontally on the couch with her head resting in Santana's lap.

"_It was the same girl I met before._" Barely registering the switch of language, Quinn's eyes fall heavily shut due to the comforting motion of Santana's hand running through her hair. She tries to fight away the fatigue to respond, knowing that her friend needed to get all this out of her system.

"_I know_." Quinn had recognised her too. She hadn't really looked at her before and hadn't heard any of their conversations, but Quinn remembers feeling embarrassed by Santana's blatant flirting and the annoyance she had felt when pulling her friend away.

"_At that Thai place_." Quinn flinches subtly when a tear slips from Santana's jaw and splashes down onto her cheek. "_She told me my shoes were nice and I told her I liked her bracelet but apparently her girlfriend had gotten it yet she still gave me her number but then-_" the rest of Santana's mandarin babble gets lost among the sobs and hiccups. Quinn grabs one of Santana's flailing hands and presses a friendly kiss on the back of it.

"_You couldn't have known_." Quinn sits up properly. "_Santana, look at me… there was no way you could have done anything."_ Santana looks out the window, conflicted emotions expressed on her face.

"_But-"_ Quinn shakes her head.

"_No. I will find this Prince Charming and I promise you that when I find him, he will get the punishment he deserves._" Santana nods with trust. They sit there for a short while before Quinn leads them back into Tina's room where Tina was still sleeping peacefully on her side on the very edge of the bed. The blonde guides Santana into the middle of the bed before slipping in next to her, wrapping the comforter around them securely. Quinn spoons herself around Santana, glad that she can feel the irregular breathing against her arm begin to calm down.

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><p>A few hours later, Quinn had showered, changed into work clothes and was already in the office at Mike's desk, going through details of the newest victim. The other desks around them were mostly empty, seeing as there weren't any other significant cases going on in the city that needed to be so urgently dealt with. Mike slides two sheets onto the desk, pulling up another chair next to his partner.<p>

"The examiners faxed through a copy of that poem line and a photo of the one in the victim's hand." Quinn picks up the papers and looks through them. She tries to look out for anything different, but as far she could tell, the photo was in the exact same style as the three previous ones and the line was simply the next line of the poem.

"I'm guessing there's nothing special on them then – no fingerprints or anything on the glossy photo?" Mike shakes his head.

"Unfortunately not." Quinn sighs and goes through the other folders on the desk, pulling out three photos all together. Mike watches on as she places them next to each other in order on the table.

"Okay, there has to be some sort of connection between these women." Mike nods and moves to sit on the edge of his chair to reach the folders. "Let's forget about the poem and just start at the beginning: Sara Carmen Castillo. What's her background?"

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><p>After having finally managed to fall asleep, Santana had woken up to a text from Brittany asking which shop made the best coffee. Originally, as much as she wanted to see the blonde, Santana was still drained emotionally and physically; however before going to work again, Quinn had persisted and encouraged her to meet up with Brittany, knowing Santana could really do with a distraction to take her mind off of last night's event. Quinn even allowed Santana drive her beloved car, Mike driving them to work instead.<p>

So here she was, sitting at the table next to the large window at the front of her favourite coffee shop, looking out to the lush grass and tall trees of Central Park on the opposite side of the busy street. Despite being indoors, she keeps her large sunglasses on as she quietly sips the warm coffee from her cup, waiting for Brittany to arrive, one hand playing with the smooth pendant around her neck.

"Hi," Santana jumps a little, luckily the coffee stays inside the cup. In the midst of her thoughts, she must have missed Brittany passing by the window and entering the little cafe.

"Hey," Santana smiles but doesn't move to get up. "I didn't know what type you liked so I haven't got you anything." Brittany shrugs.

"It's okay; let me just quickly order then." The blonde smiles before moving towards the counter (Santana may or may not have been following the casual sway of her hips as she walks).

* * *

><p>"All right so Sara – 24 years of age, Mexican, lived here in Manhattan and oldest child out of four brothers and three sisters. After college, she moved out so her mother had one less person to worry about and she would be closer to the hospital where she worked." Quinn nods, scribbling it down onto her notebook for future reference.<p>

"Who did she live with then?" Mike's eyes flicker down the page.

"Rented a house with three friends. There's nothing odd about the friends – just another girl and two guys, all similar aged." Mike adds, already anticipating Quinn's next question.

"No boyfriend then? And she wasn't reported missing or anything beforehand?" Mike ruffles through the folder and shakes his head.

"Doesn't seem like there's ever been any serious love interests in the picture. And the friends didn't notice anything weird since she was always in and out of the house at odd times for shifts." Quinn writes all the facts down, flipping onto a new page.

"Hobbies then?" Mike takes a sip of tea from his mug before going back to the file.

"Didn't have much time for it but was said to be interested in dancing. Been in hospital herself once when her lungs almost collapsed – apparently she's a real heavy smoker but apart from that there's really nothing that stands out."

"Okay. Let's move onto the next one then." Quinn hands over the next folder to her partner. "Taylor Chelsea Anderson – go."

* * *

><p>"So this is the best coffee shop in the city?" Brittany plops herself down onto the chair opposite Santana, a fresh cup of latte in her hand.<p>

"That's right girl." Santana peaks curiously into Brittany's cup, "what did you get?"

"Gingerbread latte – do you want it?" Santana scrunches her nose and leans back into her chair.

"I'm fine with my black coffee." Brittany simply smiles before taking a contented sip of her drink.

"I hope I haven't ruined any plans you had for today." Santana shrugs, finally removing her obnoxious sunglasses and placing them securely on her head.

"Not really, I was just going to sleep for most of it anyways since it's my day off today." That had been the plan – get wasted at the club and spend Sunday nursing her hangover and having an excuse to be bitch to Quinn.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a surgeon." Santana sits a little straighter – she was proud of her job. However, Brittany tilts her head, eyebrows knitting together (rather adorably, Santana must add).

"And what are you surging on?" It was Santana's turn to be confused. She wasn't sure if the blonde in front of her was playing with her or not, but she secretly hoped she didn't have a case of a J_illian from Family Guy_ in her hands.

"No, a surgeon…you know, those doctors that open people up and stuff."

"Oh right those ones. So what do you do?" Santana shrugs like it was no big deal.

"Cut them open, move stuff around and sow them up. Bada bing bada boom – in and out. Done, another life saved." Santana's smirk falls into a genuine expression of amusement when she catches Brittany look of awe.

"That's so cool." Santana shrugs nonchalantly again.

"What about you?" Brittany smiles shyly, a hand playing with the handle of the cup.

"I'm a photographer." With all sincerity, Santana looked down on people who had pathetic excuses of a job such as self-proclaimed 'artists' and 'photographers'. Anyone could throw paint together and call it art – that doesn't make them an artist. Anyone could set a camera onto sepia and point it at a sunset – that doesn't make them brooding or deep. Art was stupid. Art was impractical. (But at the end of the day, this girl in front of her was super hot and seemed interested in her so all Santana does is wash down her long rant about how much she hated art with a mouthful of coffee.)

"That must be so much fun." Santana puts on her best _oh that sounds interesting _face, she hoped it didn't look as fake as she felt. "So, what kind of things do you take photos of?" Santana gets briefly blinded by a flash of perfect teeth and a chuckle.

"Sometimes natural things like the sky, trees and landscapes," Brittany gestures to the blur of green leaves on the trees across the street, "but mostly I like to take photos of people." Santana forces herself to maintain her intrigued expression as she nods encouragingly.

"Yeah?" Brittany nods, eyeing Santana in a way that makes her feel as if the blonde was trying to peel back her mask. Luckily, Santana's phone vibrates in her pockets, saving her from an odd staring competition. Brittany blinks first, smiling so softly Santana can't help but think she might have imagined the previous intent gazing as she fishes out the phone from her tight jean pockets. Santana slides across the screen to unlock her phone, revealing that she had a new text message.

_1 new message: Tina_

_Hey, I'm needed for an emergency at the hospital. Should be back for dinner – Ma is making fish, and beef with asparagus! :D Save me some if I'm not back yet x_

Santana quickly taps out a reply to her roommate as Brittany hums a rhythm casually, finishing off her drink.

"The girlfriend?" Santana stops just before she hits send and looks up at Brittany.

"Who?" Brittany shrugs, pushing the empty cup away from the edge of the table.

"You know, that cute blonde one – Queen or something. She seemed really jealous when we were flirting," Santana laughs before pulling her face into disgust and tapping send.

"It's Quinn and no she's just weirdly controlling like that, we're definitely just friends," Santana waves her phone in the air, "This was Tina – the Asian one, she's our other roommate."

"Oh okay, I was worried I was becoming a home wrecker." Santana shakes her head, stuffing the phone back into her pocket.

"I'm not the type to have two girls on the go either," (Images of the threesome she once had pops up in Santana's mind.) She raises an eyebrow when Brittany sighs in relief, "why, bad experiences?" The blonde looks out the window briefly, admiring the contrasting vibrant colors of the cars and cabs zooming.

"Yeah, she was already with someone but didn't tell me." If Santana was anyone else, she would have reached over and patted Brittany's hand comfortingly. But unlucky for her, she was a Lopez and absolutely fails at consoling and sympathy.

* * *

><p>"Taylor Chelsea Anderson –22 years old, in her senior year at Columbia. No links with the first one at all." Quinn frowns, her hand still sliding across her notebook with neat precision.<p>

"Why?"

"She's a law student who comes from a wealthy background. She was an only child to parents – mom's a barrister, dad's a doctor."

"Friends? Boyfriends?" He shakes his head, flicking through pages.

"Well apparently she didn't have any friends. Although classmates that did know her described her as 'stuck-up' and 'patronizing'; seems like she thought she looked down on a lot on people."

"And boyfriend then?"

"Doesn't seem like there was one. Her parents are always busy with work or out at events so they rarely see her or know what she tends to get up to." Mike rotates his neck briefly, trying to work out the knot from having kept his head tilted downwards for so long.

"Past-times?"

"Again, no one really knows, when people tried to be nice to her or invite her to hang out, she would make horrible comments back to them so eventually they just gave up. Appears to be a smart, hardworking student – didn't drink or smoke or liked partying, just nothing." Quinn chews at her bottom lip. She was sure there was a link somewhere but so far, the two victims had nothing similar.

"So no one to know if she was missing earlier?"

"Don't think so. Hey, here's something different though. In addition to all those bruises and scratches, she also had her pointer finger cut off." Quinn writes it down, not really shocked, she has seen the same thing in many cases.

"She probably accidentally caught some of skin during the struggle so he cut it off. Anything else then?" Mike shakes his head.

"Okay, next one," Quinn flips to a new clean page, tossing Mike the next folder. "Lauren Chloe Gray – tell me about her."

* * *

><p>"What a bitch." Brittany shrugs and shakes her head, leaning forward to rest her arms on top of the table. As Santana stretches, the small TV on the far wall catches her attention. It was on mute but the flash of pictures and video on the screen drains all color out of Santana's face. Brittany looks curiously at what Santana was staring so fixatedly at; photos of a cute girl with short strawberry blonde hair were featured in all the photos – she was smoking in a backyard, then appeared to be at some sort of party with a beer bottle in one hand and friends posing around her. Brittany squints to read the small text at the bottom of the screen as people clothed in full white mills around a narrow alley with police barriers around it: <strong><em>Prince Charming strikes again – another victim found at popular night club.<em>**

"Santana?" Brittany places her hand on top the other girl, immediately noticing how cold her hand was. It was only until the news bulletin had finished and moved on to some basketball game did Santana come back from her previous shock trance. Santana swallows despite the dryness of her throat as the images of last night revolves inside her mind. "Did you…" Brittany strokes the hand in hers lightly, "did you know her?"

Brown eyes snap to reassuring blue ones instantly. A tetchy, instinctive '_mind your own business'_ was in the back of her mind, but the forefront could only register how compassionate Brittany looks as the first tear trails down tan cheeks. Santana sniffs sharply and nods as Brittany leans a bit closer to wipe away the tear with her other hand.

Santana spills everything to Brittany – from the flirting at the restaurant up to the scene in the alleyway – as other customers in the shop glance uneasily at her when she starts full on bawling her eyes out again. The waitresses look on disapprovingly but were far too uncomfortable with the situation to tell the two to leave. Brittany on the other hand, moves to the seat next to Santana and remains calm and quiet, only nodding encouragingly and rubbing Santana's arm supportively as she pays careful attention to the story hidden behind sobs. Santana wasn't exactly positive as to why she was sharing all this with, effectively, a stranger she met only a day ago; but there a sense of comfort in Brittany's arms and a feeling of ease as she buries her face in Brittany's neck (vaguely aware that she was ruining Brittany's rather nice top) made her reveal such a fresh event that has been troubling her.

* * *

><p>"Lauren, preferred name Lo, was 23 and lived with two friends in Brooklyn. She was apparently quite lazy and often late to work, especially last year and because of that she had to re-do her internship for another year at the Kings County hospital."<p>

"Any suspicious friends or people in her life?" Mike takes a sip of his now increasingly cold tea before answer.

"The roommates seem normal. They said that Lo was a bit of a party girl, she was always out clubbing at all times of the night even on workdays –sometimes bringing guys and girls back and sometimes spending nights and even weekends at other people's houses. She had been gone for two days before having found her body, but her roommates said that she had told them before she left that she would be spending the weekend away." The pen running across the notepad pauses.

"Who did she spend the weekend with?" Mike browses down the page.

"They don't know – she does something like this all the time but never tells them exactly who it is and they've got used to just not asking." Quinn's spirit drops slightly; something vaguely useful comes up but it was next to no help.

"What sort of awful friends are they?" Quinn shakes her head; this was exactly why she was so strict with Santana, "Anything else then?"

"Was quite the heartbreaker, only interested in flings. She's also been in an out hospital a few times to get her stomach pumped, looks like she was a borderline alcoholic." Quinn scribbles it down before finally clicking her pen shut.

"Okay, so are we finding more details on the newest victims or are the investigators doing it?" Mike glances at the fax machine behind them.

"I bumped into Puck earlier and he said that they should be sending through the basic facts and addresses around now then we'll have to go and speak to the people for more information." Quinn nods, twirling the pen in her hand impatiently.

"All right, let's take a look at the poems while we wait."

* * *

><p>After having finally managed to calm down somewhat, the two decides to leave for Santana's car, having grown tired of the stares from the other customers around them. As they walk leisurely hand-in-hand down the open street with cars and other people rushing by and the wonderful summery weather above them, Santana couldn't help but feel like she could get used to this – used to being with Brittany so easily like this. (Santana hasn't found someone who was genuinely willing to put up with her chaotic schedule for over a year now, and besides she only met this amazing blonde literally yesterday, it was far too early to even think of things like that.) Santana tries to chases the thoughts away.<p>

"So… where are we going?" Brittany smiles at her, gripping her hand securely. The blonde hadn't said a word the entire time, only settling to listen attentively.

"I was thinking of some place happy, like a zoo." Santana crinkles her nose and pushes her large falling sunglasses further up.

"Ew, the zoo is so gross. The animals are always either fucking or sleeping and all you do is pay ridiculous amounts to smell shit everywhere." Brittany looks down dejectedly. Santana bumps her shoulder into hers to gain her attention again. "Come on, I'll take you someplace even better."

* * *

><p>Mike lines up the four photocopied pages next to each other as Quinn returns from pouring the two more tea. She carefully places the cups further into the desk, away from potential danger of ruining the sheets of paper.<p>

"Okay… Cruelty has a human heart, And Jealousy a human face; Terror the human form divine, And Secrecy the human dress. That's the first stanza of A Divine Image by William Blake." Mike leans back into his seat, arms crossed. "They don't seem to be referring to the individual victims." Quinn shakes her head.

"Do you remember studying this poem in high school?"

"Vaguely," Quinn clicks open her pen and writes down the lines into her notepad.

"Do you remember what the overall meaning of the poem was?" Mike runs a hand through his hair, trying to cast his mind back.

"Oh god, let me think… It's about the flaws in human traits. Blake wrote this short poem about the ordeals of human nature…" Quinn snaps her fingers.

"Exactly, I think our old friend Charming is trying to send a message to us." Mike sits up straighter, eyes attached the words in front of him.

"So what, he's killing all these women to prove something? To show people how imperfect humans are?" Quinn massages her forehead, aching from the consistent frowning she's been doing.

"I don't know. I just wonder – why these victims specifically? All similar aged, attractive girls who couldn't have been more different from each other," Quinn narrows her eyes, "none of them have been to prison or done anything significantly awful in their lives. There has to be some sort of connection that we're missing…" The fax machine suddenly churns into life, screen flashing to warn that something was going to be sent through. As Mike stands to deal with it, Quinn sips at her tea, flicking through her notebook for something that she might have overlooked.

* * *

><p>"And here we are." There had been no available spaces so Santana had been forced to park the car in the furthest most isolated corner of the parking lot, yet Brittany had insisted that she didn't want where they were going to be spoiled so they had crossed the busy parking lot with Brittany's head down, eyes firmly attached to the grey gravel and hand locked around Santana's arm as a guide. Now finally having arrived, Brittany looks up from the sidewalk and is met by a turquoise banner with golden creatures around the side, with clear words.<p>

"An aquarium?" Santana laughs as Brittany jumps up and down, squealing adorably. "You're the best, Santana." The said-girl shrugs and clears her throat.

"Whatever." Brittany leans down to press a chaste kiss on the corner of her lips, before pulling at Santana's arm for them to enter, not giving her a chance to respond.

* * *

><p>"They sent through some facts, names and a few addresses of people we need to talk to." Quinn nods, glancing at her watch, surprised that it was already half past five.<p>

"Maybe we should go to see those people tomorrow. You should come back to mine, we can call up to tell them and go through more questions and other things."

"Good idea." Mike throws on his coat as Quinn clears up the desk.

"Oh and Ma is cooking if you want to stay for dinner – she said she's making steamed fish and beef with asparagus." Mike grins, arms wide open.

"Even better."

* * *

><p>Brittany gazes in wonder at the sting rays swimming by over their head at the conservation hall. It was a long corridor where the entire curved ceiling and walls were made of glass to allow people to feel almost as if they were submerged in the water with the fishes too. There were a few benches around the room, near the glass and only an elder couple was present on the far opposite side of the hall with them.<p>

"I have to admit, when you said you'd take me someplace else, I really didn't expect it to be here."

"Why, don't you like it?" Brittany smiles and squeezes her hand gently, easing Santana's panic.

"The opposite, I absolutely love it," the blonde looks down at her feet sheepishly, "whenever I tell people I want to go to places like the zoo, they generally just tell me it's dumb and we end up going to the movies or something." Santana snorts, tucking strands of hair behind Brittany's ear.

"You know, you seem to have gone out with a lot of crappy people." Brittany shrugs.

"People are crappy, it's what makes people, people." Santana furrows her eyebrows curiously, ready to counter but the blonde gets distracted. "Oh my god, look at that!" Brittany tugs Santana over, until they were close enough for Brittany to trace her hand on the glass. Santana couldn't help but smile softly at Brittany's amazed expression as she looks out onto the corals on the rocks, where a single fish was swirling in and out of. "We found him!" Santana snaps out of her daze (rather mushy and gross daze, she admits) to follow where Brittany was pointing at a clownfish. Santana laughs.

"We found-"

"Nemo!" Brittany beams, finishing off Santana's sentence. "What's my prize?" Santana grins, feeling her heart leap a little at the sparkle in Brittany's eyes.

"This." Santana leans upwards, arms wrapping around Brittany's shoulder as she presses their lips together.

* * *

><p>Quinn unlocks the door and opens it, instantly seeing some Asian drama on the TV on the opposite side of the small apartment. She takes off her shoes as Mike locks the door behind him.<p>

"Ma! I'm home, Mike's here too and he's staying for dinner." The two round the corner into the open kitchen where an older, taller and slimmer version of Tina stood, wiping her hands on her apron with half-chopped spring onions in front of her.

"Quinn! Michael!" She moves around the kitchen island to press first Quinn, then Mike into a firm hug with a maternal kiss on the cheek.

"Hi Ayi, how is the restaurant going?" Subtly, Quinn drops her briefcase and opens the fridge door as the other two speak. Seeing what she was doing, Mike deliberately moves to lean against the sink so Ma tilts her body to him and is unable to see what Quinn was up to.

"The same, just very busy. The new waiter is very sloppy; he almost poured hot tea on a customer tonight." Mike widens his eyes in shock. Meanwhile, Quinn quietly removes bottles of beer from the fridge and places them carefully into the cabinet above the kitchen counter next to the stove as quickly as she can.

"_Woah, what happened_?" Mike switches to mandarin, knowing she found it easier to communicate in her home language. Quinn freezes, one hand on the fridge door, the other holding a bottle that was clearly visible when Ma turns towards the island. Luckily, she doesn't see Quinn as she reaches to grab the remote so to turn the volume of the TV down.

"_It was his first day and he couldn't really handle all the people milling around. He spilt the tea all over the table but thank goodness the man moved out of the way quickly enough to not get burned_." Having hidden all the alcoholic drinks, Quinn eases the cabinet door close, praying that it wouldn't creek. Luckily, it shut silently as does the fridge. Quinn grins triumphantly and gives proud thumbs up at Mike behind Ma's back.

"I'm sure he'll learn from his mistakes." Quinn grabs the briefcase by her feet, "Ma, we're going to go work on this case, just knock when dinner's ready." Quinn gestures Mike towards the little corridor behind the kitchen, where her room was. Mike gives a smile before disappearing down the corridor. Just as Quinn steps past Ma to join him, a hand on her shoulder stops her.

"Quinn. I'll need to get out the bowls out of that cabinet after I'm done. So next time you're going to hide drinks, don't put them in a place that I will come across. Try underneath the sink; I shouldn't normally go through there." Quinn groans, wincing at having been caught out, and she thought she had been so sneaky as well.

"Yes, sorry Ma." She smiles at her daughter and runs her hand across blonde hair to smooth down her ponytail for her.

"Now go, I'll call you when I'm done."

* * *

><p>Santana had never been so glad that there weren't any good parking spaces before. As the sun starts to set, not even the very little people passing by to retrieve their vehicles could see the busy activities inside the backseat of the car situated conveniently in the shadowed corner.<p>

* * *

><p>Just as Tina was about to slip her key inside the door to the apartment, her phone goes off in her purse. Rummaging through to find the phone took a while but she manages to locate it before it goes to voicemail. Seeing the caller id, Tina almost chooses not to pick up, but she takes in a deep breath and hits the green icon on the screen.<p>

"Hey."

"Hey," Artie's voice was a lot calmer than the previous time they had spoken (argued). "How are you doing?" Tina sighs, it was only two days since their last dispute and she didn't really feel ready to talk to him yet.

"I'm really tired Artie." Desperately wanting to just collapse on the sofa, Tina opts to ignore how dirty it was and slides down to sit on the ground beside the front door, knowing her Ma was inside and this was a conversation she could really do with her not hearing.

"From?"

"Life, work, arguments," Tina didn't want Artie to feel guilty but the resignation slips into her voice naturally.

"Look, I'm sorry Tina. I shouldn't be pushing you into making these decisions and I definitely shouldn't have said those things I did." Tina smiles gently, playing with the bunch of keys with one hand.

"It's okay; I understand where you're coming from." She really did, in fact she wanted more than anything to be able to be open about her relationships with her parents and family.

"It's just, I really like you and I'm so sick of hiding all the time. I don't know him that well and I'm sure Mike's a great guy, but it almost feels like we're the ones having an affair or something." Tina nods, despite the action being futile.

"I know it's hard, Artie."

"But you don't, that's the thing." He begins to speak quicker, a sign of his building agitation. "Otherwise you would have just come clean with your parents."

"You know the whole Asian parents situation." Artie scoffs.

"Oh please Tina. Stop with the Asian thing – it's getting really old, really quick." Tina closes her eyes briefly.

"But it's true. My parents-"

"Your parents accept Quinn who's bisexual and Santana even though she's a lesbian. I'm sorry if I'm the disgrace and I'm the one who's even worse than they are." Tina frowns.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh come on Tina," Artie snaps, finally losing his temper, "you have two dykes for sisters yet your precious 'Ma and Ba' care damn all. We're the legitimate heterosexual couple but somehow, we're the ones who have to sneak around like being straight is a bad thing when they get to fly their slutty gay flags proudly everywhere. Great fair parents you have." Silence ensures – Artie too stubborn to apologise and Tina too stunned to respond. It wasn't the first time that Artie had said bad things about Tina's parents but now, his true colors were revealed as were his real judgment on Quinn and Santana too.

Without saying a word, Tina hangs up. She breathes in deeply and waits for the tears in her eyes to evaporate before moving to rise again. Unlocking the door, Tina pauses and tries to arrange her face into a happier expression before pushing open the door.

* * *

><p>Santana unlocks the front door, humming a tune quietly as she kicks off her shoes onto the small pile already.<p>

"Buenas tardes bella gente," Santana proclaims, putting down her keys and bag onto the kitchen island. At the table, the others were finishing up the last of the dinner.

"Santana, where have you been? You said you weren't going to be back for dinner so I didn't set out a plate for you." Santana moves around to the head of the table to press a kiss on her Ma's forehead before moving to sit in the remaining empty seat next to Quinn and opposite Mike.

"I was on a date, Ma, and its fine, I already ate." Quinn takes one look at Santana's genuine dopey smile, tamed obviously previously disarrayed hair and slightly large jacket that she didn't recognise, before putting her chopstick down, suddenly feeling full.

"Oh I bet you did." Quinn mutters underneath her breath as Santana smirks at her.

"Date? You haven't told me anything about this – what is she like? When do I get to meet her?" Everyone's attention on Santana, nobody notices Tina also stop eating and stare passively at her glass of water.

"It's still early days Ma, but she's really great." Never having really been the mushy type, Santana waves her hands in a no more type of gesture. "I'm going to go head for a shower." Quinn almost throws up watching her sing casually and practically skips her way to her bedroom.

* * *

><p><em>So, hit that review button and tell me your thoughts :) And you probably noticed this chapter was super long (6k unlike usual 3k) so the next update will have to be around Monday or maybe Sunday. Thanks!<em>


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or any other references_

_Thanks to my awesome beta **Dsachao **for this!_

* * *

><p>"Do you mind recapping the basics for me? We should be there in five."<p>

Mike nods and opens the thin file just as Quinn turns the car around a corner, making their way to the campus of the newest victim. "Okay so the body was recognised as Jessica Anna Green – 21 years old, a CCNY student studying medicine. Her mother died when she was fourteen from cancer, dad lives in Boston and the only brother is in the army. And the rest is for us to find out; her roommate and two other friends are willing to talk to us."

Quinn nods, slowing the car down and parking in a parking space on the sidewalk just outside of the campus. Despite the staring, they remain professional as they make their way into the building, looking severely out of place with their blazers and suits compared to the t-shirts and tank tops the students around them are wearing on this hot summer's day. Staying on the ground floor, Quinn leads them around a few corridors before stopping in front of a room, where Mike quickly checks it's the right one, before knocking firmly on the door twice. They can hear muffled music being turned down and a brief shuffling before a short girl opens the door.

"Can I help you?"

"Good afternoon, are you Abigail Williams?"

As she nods, Quinn flashes the girl her ID, aware that Mike does the same behind her, "I'm Agent Fabray and this is my partner Agent Chang. May we come in?"

"Oh, of course, sorry."

Abigail steps aside, revealing a small rectangular room behind her where there is nothing more than two beds, two desks and two closets opposite each other, and a door to the side that Quinn guesses leads to the bathroom. Instantly, Quinn recognises the faint trace of marijuana in the air. Thin-lipped, she ignores it for now, nodding at the other two young adults in the room – one a boy with a piercing just under his lip and messy, unruly sand-blonde hair and the other a girl who has on large, vintage-looking glasses and deliberately puffy brown hair. Despite there being plenty of room, the pair sits on one of the single beds whilst Abigail opts to grab the chair from the closer desk and sit near her friends; it's obvious that the left side of the room had been the victim's and the trio are trying to avoid having to deal with her belongings and part of the room.

"Hello, I'm Agent Fabray, this is my partner Agent Chang," Quinn reintroduces themselves for the sake of the two on the bed as she walks over to shake their hands, Mike doing the same after her.

"I'm Brad," the young man informs them, gripping Quinn's hand firmly, "and this is Kayla." He gestures to the meek girl beside him. Quinn nods before moving to occupy the other chair left as Mike leans against the desk next to her, pulling out a file from his bag.

"As you know, we're here to investigate more about the death of Jessica Green." Instantly, the three friends flinch at the name, Kayla patting Brad's knee softly. "We have a few questions that we'd like to ask you." Quinn pulls out her notepad from the inside of her blazer along with a pen.

"You can ask us anything," Abigail nods profusely, "we want to help." Her eyes flicker towards the photos stuck all over the walls: they consist of the victim, these three friends and some other people, all of the pictures have smiles and laughter.

"Well, we thank you for your assistance."

Quinn nods at Mike, the cue for him to take over the questioning while she writes everything down.

"So, when was the last time you saw the victim?"

Brad cringes and clears his throat. "Please, call her Jessie instead of… just, Jessie would be great."

Mike nods sympathetically.

"So when was the last time you saw Jessie? She was found last Saturday… was she missing or had she disappeared before then?"

"No, but I think I was probably the one who saw her last. We had the last lecture of the day together, so that must have been around…" Abigail frowns briefly, trying to remember the time exactly, "like, around three maybe. I had to go to work afterwards but she told me she was going out, and I assumed she meant with these guys so I didn't ask more about it." She looks towards her friends, both sitting in solemn silence.

"Now, for these past few weeks," Mike crosses his arm across his chest, "had she been acting strange or secretive?"

"Yes!" Brad moves away from leaning against the wall so that he was still on the bed, but his feet are firmly planted on the floor. "She'd been acting really strange with me for about three weeks. She'd recently been really busy and stuff, blowing me off when I went to hangout. She never told me who she was with or where was going though."

Quinn observes the movement of the girl beside him. She flicks her hair away from her eyes and smoothes down the side in a seemingly normal gesture, but Quinn's instinct tells her that the quiet girl is hiding something.

"Okay, so none of you have noticed her seeing or even speaking to men that you don't know?"

They shake their heads regretfully.

"All right, so what did Jessie like to do? Don't think we didn't notice the smell of pot when we came in." Abigail's eyes widen in fear.

"What?" She laughs nervously, "I brought this new perfume and it smells a bit like…" her excuse trails off at Mike and Quinn's mirrored looks of disinterest. "We're sorry, please don't tell anyone." Mike uncrosses his arms to appear less closed-off.

"Look," Quinn pauses her writing and directs her gaze to the three of them, "we're here for Jessie and more detail about her. And if you tell us what you know," she looks purposefully at Kayla who is avoiding eye contact by staring at her own lap, "then we can overlook other things. So did Jessie smoke too?" Brad rubs his neck uneasily.

"Yeah, we," he clears his throat, "all of us do. She smoked the least out of our friends," he shrugs, "and when she had time away from exams and things, she was really into photography."

"Can we take a look at her most recent photos?"

Abigail nods at Mike's request and points at the little drawer on the desk he is leaning on. Mike pulls it open and takes out a stack of photos and an SLR camera. Handing the stack over to Quinn, he turns on the camera and scrolls through the pictures. Quinn flicks through the photographs – various camp fires, several that are silhouettes with smoke blowing away, some are just different angles of some multi-coloured pencils and a few are post-it notes stuck on objects and even people, with quotes written on them. Mike switches off the camera before placing it into his bag.

"We're going to have to take these away to for further examination." Quinn gives him back the photos, which he pulls an elastic band over, before also putting them away. "Is her phone or laptop here too?" Abigail shakes her head.

"Those things stay with her twenty-four seven, she must have been carrying them around with her when she went… missing."

Quinn nods as she scribbles more details down, understanding that it would be difficult for them to admit that their friend is gone. "So she was found behind the club _'Oasis Mist' _here in Manhattan. Has she ever been there before?"

Brad frowns in confusion. "I've never even heard of that place."

Abigail shakes her head too.

"Okay, can any of you give us a way of contacting her girlfriend, we'd like to -"

Quinn is cut off as Brad laughs and Abigail gives Mike an odd look.

"Are you serious?"

Remaining calm, Mike runs a hand through his hair. "Is something wrong?"

"You totally just said," Brad lifts his hands up to make air quotation marks, "_girlfriend_."Mike blinks in surprise, turning to Quinn; she was the one who had told him that the victim was seeing someone.

"Are you saying that she isn't in a relationship?"

Brad gives Abigail a _what-are-they-on_ look, before he leans forward onto his knees. "As her _boy_friend of 7 months, I'm telling you, she's never been with a girl, like, ever in her life." Quinn's pen stops mid-sentence, head flying upwards to see the seriousness in Brad's face. She's confused, she had definitely seen for herself the girl flirting with her own roommate at that restaurant and besides, it was only yesterday that Santana had been babbling to Quinn about the victim's girlfriend or something.

"She was given this bracelet -"

Quinn catches Kayla's flickering eyes and fidgeting hands immediately. "Kayla." The girl's eyes widen and lock onto Quinn, restless motions stopping instantly. "We can't help Jessie if we don't know the full background."

"I…" The quiet girl quivers, looking uncomfortably between her friends.

"Kay, what's going on?" Brad rests a hand on her shoulder curiously, but she instantly twists away from his touch.

"Look I'm sorry Brad, but I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone."

Quinn hands over her notebook and pen to Mike before shuffling her chair directly in front of the girl, who is on the verge of breaking down. "Would it be better if these two leave?"

The girl chews her lip briefly before sighing. "No, they'll just grill me as soon as you guys leave anyway."

Quinn leans forward, hands clasping together.

"Were you and Jessie… involved?"

Kay shakes her head vigorously.

"No! No, it wasn't me! I accidentally bumped into them together, like, a week ago. My uncle and auntie were in town so I went to their hotel and as the elevator door opened, there she was with this older girl." Ignoring Brad's look of confusion and upset, Quinn nods encouragingly, the line _'And Secrecy the human dress'_ revolving inside her mind.

"Hold up," Brad turns abruptly towards his friend, "what do you mean?"

"They were… I'm really sorry Brad, but they were kissing and cuddling and stuff." The room falls quiet as Brad swallows dryly.

"She- she was- I… you serious?"

"I'm so sorry-" He holds up his hand to silence her.

"I can't. I just can't." Brad scrambles off the bed before crossing the room to fling the door open and leave. Abigail quickly apologises and follows him out to calm him down, leaving Kayla alone with the two FBI agents. Quinn clears her throat, knowing that it wouldn't be professional to comfort the girl who is almost in tears.

"So… was she unhappy about being with Brad?"

"Not at all. She told me she was just experimenting and that being bisexual meant it wasn't cheating to have a girlfriend and a boyfriend at the same time." Quinn raises an eyebrow, thoroughly insulted, but she remains professional and swallows down her instinctive retort, hoping that she won't sound too disgusted.

"Oh. Well, do you know if she's been seeing other people as well?" The girl shakes her head.

"Not that I'm aware of, no." Mike clears his throat before nodding at Quinn, signalling they have what they need to know.

"Well, thank you for your cooperation. We'll be in touch."

* * *

><p>"So the girlfriend has a secret girlfriend." Quinn comments, sliding into the driver's seat as Mike hops into passenger side.<p>

"It fits with the line, look." Reaching into his blazer, Mike pulls out Quinn's notepad, flipping to the page with the four lines written in it, "'a_nd Secrecy the human dress'_: that was the secret."

"I was thinking that too; what about the others then?"

Mike flicks back a few pages. "Well Lo was a real heartbreaker, that's a terror in itself."

Quinn nods. "Maybe but the two left don't really work. The first was a regular girl who smoked a bit too much and the second was a bit of a pompous law student. Neither could be seen as cruel or jealous."

Mike sighs dejectedly. "You're right. So then the poem isn't referring to the individual victims?"

Quinn shakes her head. "I don't think so. Charming wants to show the errors in people and how destructive they are in general, rather than these specific victims. Maybe that's why they are all dressed and made up to look the exact same way because their identity isn't what matters to him."

Mike nods as Quinn puts the notebook back away into her own blazer.

"But to be honest, I don't believe that he's just doing this all for show. There's a personal reason for him and I bet there's a connection that we're missing here."

* * *

><p>Quinn and Mike are still deep in conversation when Quinn slows the car in front of the hospital. Santana is already waiting on the sidewalk with her arms crossed. Unimpressed, she throws herself into the backseat.<p>

"Fucking late as always, you best be glad that the weather was perfect today and I at least got my tan on for half an hour." Santana snaps on her seatbelt, head thumping onto the headrest with fatigue as Quinn drives away.

"Sorry," Mike shuffles slightly to face her better, "we got caught up at the college talking with the friends." Instantly, Santana becomes alert.

"Yeah? How'd it go?"

Mike picks up on the slight tremble in her voice but pretends he hadn't and shrugs. "All right, and turns out the victim actually had a boyfriend and that girlfriend was some secret fling on the side."

"What a scandal," Santana whistles lowly as Quinn slows the car to a stop at a red light.

"Actually," the blonde pipes up, "I'll have you know that she had told her friend, and I quote, 'being bisexual allows you to have a boyfriend and a girlfriend at the same time _without_ cheating'". Santana bursts into laughter, having caught Quinn's appalled expression through the rear view mirror.

"Ouch Q, I'm surprised you didn't whip out your gun and shoot the girl for saying something like that." The light turns green and Quinn steps on the gas pedal a little harder than necessary, causing the car to surge forward.

"Trust me, I wanted to, but I suppose I shouldn't shoot the messenger of the victim." Santana sits a little more upright, the smile slipping off of her lips as she remembers something her colleague had told her while they were putting their scrubs on.

"By the way guys, you would not believe it. Apparently the vict-" Santana clears her throat uncomfortably, "apparently she was a medical student."

Quinn raises her eyebrow as Mike furrows his. "How did you know that?"

Santana looks out the window at the passing buildings with unease. "One of my co-workers told me she had applied and was going to be an intern at the hospital." Santana shivers, "you know, there was that Sara chick from the neurology unit and now this; have to admit, it's sort of creeping me out."

The puzzles click into place instantly inside Quinn's brain as she stomps on the brakes, causing the other two in the car to lurch forward. Luckily, the yellow cab behind them swerves away in time, but the driver steers by them with one hand pressed firmly on the horn and the other with his middle finger saluting at them through the window.

"_Tu eres loca_ – you can't just stop in the middle of the road! Move!" Quinn snaps out of her sudden mental breakthrough and swiftly pulls the car to the sidewalk.

"Get out." Santana blinks.

"Excuse me?"

"Mike and I need to go back to the office right now," Mike looks at her puzzled but chooses to stay quiet and go along with it; Santana on the other hand refuses leave without a fight.

"What the fuck, Fabray, how am I going to get home?" Quinn swivels in her seat and leans over to release Santana's seatbelt.

"I don't care – get a cab, get a plane – just do it quickly. Please." The blonde adds as an afterthought. Huffing and muttering threats and complaints under her breath (okay, they weren't under her breath at all, if anything she they were clearly _over_ her breath), Santana opens the door and exits.

"You owe me Fabray, so fucking much." As she slams the door shut forcefully, Quinn unwinds her window.

"Oi, come here," Santana narrows her eyes suspiciously, but leans down to the window. Quinn leans upwards and kisses Santana on the forehead, "you, my annoying but rather brilliant friend, are amazing. I'll make it up to you later, but fuck me, you are _fantastic_." Santana can't help but smirk unwillingly at Quinn's bright beam.

"All right, all right, keep it in your pants. Now get out of here before I show you how brilliant and amazing my fists are too."

Quinn laughs and waves at her one more time before quickly speeding away, leaving Santana in the middle of a neighbourhood that, despite being driven through every day to and from work, she still doesn't know very well. Santana takes out her phone to scroll down her lists of contacts, frowning when she realises most of her friends are still at work. Her mind immediately jumps to one particular person, and she flicks across the screen as fast as she can to go back up the list. She finds 'Brittany' and hits the call icon, lifting the phone to ear.

"Hello?"

"_Hola Bonita_," she begins to walk aimlessly down the street, other hand swinging leisurely by her side.

"Sorry, wrong number."

Santana blinks. "No wait Brittany, it's me, Santana."

She can hear Brittany laughing on the receiver and can't stop her own grin from emerging. "Oh hey there, I don't blame you for getting my name wrong by the way; sometimes I forget my middle name too."

"I didn't forget your name, 'bonita' is Spanish for-" Santana pauses, frowning when she's sure she can hear a muffled voice in the background, "you engaged?"

"No, why, do you want to propose?"

Santana laughs, kicking away a can on the pavement. "I meant as in are you busy."

"Maybe, kind of, I'm not sure to be honest."

Santana nods, uselessly, "Okay well, when you're done being undecided about how busy you are, want to meet up? An FBI agent, well two including Mike, just left me, a young and very hot, tempting Latina, on my own in the middle of fuck all when there is a serial killer on the loose right now and could very well be lurking around the next corner." She rolls her eyes as Brittany laughs at her exaggeration.

"I don't think me joining you will make it any safer."

"Eh, but then at least I get a chance to act all bad-ass and shit if Prince Charming decides to turn up. Ma and Ba taught me some hardcore martial arts," (Just ask Puck, he's been beaten up so many times over the years whenever he upset Quinn and sometimes just because Santana really hates his smug grin or his damn lack of real hairstyle or him simply being Puck).

"That sounds really hot."

Santana smirks. "Yeah well, if you hopped on the subway and came to join me, then you could experience exactly how hot it sounds…" She can practically hear Brittany considering her offer.

"Sure, but the subway confuses me too much, all they did was offer me sandwiches – so where should I go?" Santana frowns, looking around the empty, unknown street.

"Get a cab and go to the Columbia University Medical Center, it's where I work and I'm kind of close by anyways. I'll meet you there."

"Okay, I'll be like, half an hour though, I have some stuff to finish off first." Santana turns around and starts walking back the direction she came from.

"Uh huh sure, see you soon."

* * *

><p><em>Hope that was all right, bit of a filler but you know =) Anon reviews are now allowed and as always, comments are much appreciated! Next one up maybe Thursday hopefully.<br>_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or any other references_

_Thanks to my awesome beta **Dsachao **for this!_

* * *

><p>Upon arriving at her desk, which is directly adjacent to Mike's, Quinn shrugs off her blazer and instantly starts to gather files together.<p>

"So what is this revelation you had?" Mike rests his arm on top of her computer screen, watching her opening them and turning to specific pages.

"Santana found it accidentally – the connection between all the victims," Quinn pushes various bits of paper towards Mike, "see, Sara was a doctor, Lo was an intern over in Brooklyn and Jessie is studying medicine too. They all have something to do with medicine and doctors,"

Mike studies the notes in front of him. "And Taylor Anderson? It says right here that she's a law student at Columbia," Quinn frowns and tilts her head as she skims the words that Mike was pointing to.

"There has to be some link… here, her father is a doctor."

Mike raises his eyebrows and moves to half sit and half lean against the desk. "I admit for the others, the whole medicine thing is very suspicious, but the father? Isn't that pushing it? Just a little bit," Quinn breathes in deeply, she had tried not to see links where there were none, but something was telling her that this was a chance they had to take.

"Do you trust me Mikey?"

He looks up at her and smiles genuinely. "Of course Q."

"My instincts are telling me that this is useful – I think we need to go see this Doctor Anderson." Mike watches her carefully for a moment before nodding and holding out his hand to take the folder from her.

"Come on then, I'll try and get us a meeting."

* * *

><p>A car horn startles Santana from her heated game of Angry Birds, (visitors walking into the hospital may or may not have stared at her as if she were crazy, as she sat there on the bench, screaming blue murder and wishing the worst deaths on green pigs which she catapulted various birds at) and looking up she sees Brittany leaning out of a steel-grey Range Rover and waving at her, eyes hidden behind shades. Quickly closing the game on her phone, Santana rises and walks over towards the car.<p>

"Hey," Santana leans down to press a chaste kiss on Brittany's lips through the open window before moving over towards the other side and sliding into the passenger seat, "nice car you've got here – can't believe you brought one though."

"It's not mine; I just borrowed it from a friend," Brittany waits for Santana to put her seat belt on before shifting the car into drive again and pulling out of the hospital area.

"So why are you dressed like that?" Santana indicates Brittany's outfit. She's wearing baggy sweatpants and a matching maroon sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Despite the really old and, if she has to admit it, ugly outfit, Santana thinks Brittany looks adorable – it almost looks like she's wearing her dad's clothes.

"I went to the gym but it was a bit cold and I threw on some stuff to wear on top," Brittany lifts up the hem of her clothes to show that she is in fact wearing a normal top and shorts underneath. "I didn't have enough time to head back to the hotel room again, so I just grabbed another jacket before I left for the gym."

"Oh okay, so anyways, where are we going then?" Santana glances at her watch, surprised that it is already half-past six; Brittany had taken an hour and a half to finish whatever she was doing.

"So there's this new animated film out and it's got all these multi-colored birds and stuff." Cheesy cartoon movies aren't really her thing, yet Santana remains quiet, smiling gently and allows Brittany to express her excitement before speaking.

"Sounds great."

Brittany turns to look at Santana curiously and half-incredulously, before grinning widely and returning her focus to the road.

* * *

><p>Mike waits patiently as the phone rings. Disapprovingly, he watches as Quinn adds spoonful after spoonful of sugar into her tea, while the call is still being connected. It clicks through.<p>

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Doctor Anderson?"

"Speaking."

Mike quickly puts the phone onto speaker. "Are you the father of Taylor Chelsea Anderson?"

There was a pause.

"Who is this and what do you want?"

"This is Agent Chang from the FBI, my partner and I-"

"I've already spoken to people about my daughter's death, I remember one of the Investigators had this excuse of a hairstyle -"

Mike leans forward in his chair, hands clasped together while resting on the wooden desk. "Yes sir, but my partner and I have recently taken over the case and there are more details and information that we would like to know. Is it possible to arrange some sort of meeting?"

"There is nothing else to ask, I have already said everything there is to say."

Mike and Quinn exchange confused looks at the defensive tone. "See, we have made more progress on the case and it is absolutely crucial that you assist us in finding this killer."

"Do what you must, but I have nothing more to say."

Mike shakes his head disbelievingly. "Doctor Anderson, we need your co-operation into finding the person that killed your own daughter. There are answers we need from you personally."

"I have already co-operated as much as I can," the deep voice snaps back, "and don't you dare go through my history. If I find out that you have without my consent I will sue you and have your badge, do you understand?"

"But sir-"

"Don't call me again."

The line cuts off abruptly.

* * *

><p>It's strange, being in a cinema and actually <em>watching <em>the film for once, rather than making out or doing… other activities in the dark corner of the room. It certainly isn't that Santana doesn't want to (if anything that short skirt Brittany is sporting makes it very difficult for her to keep her eyes on the screen at the front), and she's positive that if she leant over and initiated things, Brittany would have complied rather happily. However, each time she starts to get bored of these birds going on adventures and turns towards the blonde, she would catch the slight wonder in Brittany's face with eyes darting around, trying to absorb every part of the film, and Santana would blink and smile, turning back to the screen and settling contentedly for squeezing the soft hands laced in her own.

* * *

><p>"Well that was fun," Mike makes sure the call completely disconnected.<p>

"His reaction was so strange." Quinn reaches for her overly sweet tea (Mike grimaces) and takes a quick sip, "it was almost like he didn't want anything to do with the case."

Mike nods. "Definitely – he was far too aggressive about not helping us to find the guy that killed his own daughter," Mike shakes his head. "It's kinda suspicious."

"And the way he didn't want us to ask about himself; he's hiding something from us – I just know it." Mike nods again before moving to put all the notes back in their correct files while Quinn writes down everything into her ever-present notebook. "So he wasn't bothered by his daughter's death and doesn't want to help to find the killer. What was that phrase he used? 'Do what you can'?"

"I think it was 'Do what you must'."

"It almost sounds like he doesn't want us to find the killer at all." Quinn frowns. "I think we need to do some check-up on this man."

"I can definitely get people to do some research for us, screw his threats," he glances at the clock on the far wall. "It's a bit late now but that'll be first thing tomorrow." Quinn twists around to look at the time too, noticing that it's past eight already.

"Fine," she replies tersely as they both stand and prepare to leave. Mike places his hand on Quinn's shoulder reassuringly.

"Relax Quinn, we're close to catching this guy."

Quinn sighs. "It just feels like every time we get a bit nearer, something or someone jumps in the way. There are eight lines in that poem and we've already gone through half of it but we still have no idea who he could be." Mike squeezes her shoulder comfortingly.

"It's okay. We still have time, trust me, a few hurdles left and we can give all the families and friends of the victims some real peace."

Quinn smiles weakly. "Thanks Mike, you know, I really couldn't have asked for a better partner over the last few years." He smiles back, smoothing the side of her ponytail, in a similar fashion to an older brother taking care of their younger sister.

"Always Q."

* * *

><p>"Oh man, that was such a great film," Brittany exclaims loudly, holding the movie theatre's door wide open chivalrously for Santana to exit first. Despite it being the middle of summer, there's a relatively cool breeze outside and Santana shivers when the wind brushes her exposed skin from her three-quarter length jeans and strappy top. Noticing the action, Brittany pulls them away from the middle of the sidewalk to the side of the building, right next to a bright illuminating poster of some action film, before taking off her thin jacket and helping Santana to slide into it. (She can't even try denying that she swooned an awful lot at the action.)<p>

"Thanks," Santana grins, the sleeves slightly too long, but she leaves them down, dangling and covering her hand rather adorably, as she edges closer to kiss Brittany. Immediately, the blonde lifts her arms and places them over Santana's shoulder, pulling her even nearer so they pressed up together against the brick wall, Brittany's back covering their intimate moment from the eyes of drivers and passers-by.

"Want to go back to my hotel now?" Santana shivers again, but not from the cold, as she grips the material around Brittany's waist tightly.

"I…"

Her body's aching for what Brittany is offering, but that little organ in her chest is asking for more. That squishy thing in her skull agrees with that pounding thing in her chest – that kind of pleasure would come (the squishy thing and the beating thing high five each other at the pun), but the need to simply spend time with and get to know Brittany is too overwhelming. Santana glances at her wrist, realising she forgot her watch and says, "it's still early. I, uh, want to go somewhere else first." Brittany's eyes widen in surprise and Santana looks away, not really wanting to find out if she's bad or good surprised. (She's positive her libido is running around trying to slap the shit out of her other organs.)

"Do you not want to…?"

Santana shakes her head vigorously, leaning up to kiss Brittany again as a reassurance. "Of course I do – trust me, _tu eres muy cachonda_." Despite not understanding the words, Brittany smirks when Santana trails her eyes over her chest, "but I just want to… fuck, it's super sappy and it's still early days or whatever, but I want to, you know, hang out and talk and just get to know you some more because…" Santana clears her throat, glancing at the cars zooming by to avoid eye contact, "…I like you a lot."

There's a pause where Santana can see Brittany's gaze on her in her peripheral vision and can feel the end of the stare on her skin, but she chooses to look down at the floor (which is rather difficult since they're still pressed tightly together against a wall).

"San…"

With the guidance of Brittany's finger on her chin, Santana makes eye contact, curious as to why Brittany has a look of revelation, as if she's seeing her properly for the first time. "I want you to know that I really do like you too – you're different."

Santana is about to question who she's different to, but Brittany blinks and that _smile_ returns to her lips and Santana's too dazed to remember what she was going to say. "So then, where do you want to go?"

"I'll show you," Santana smiles back before intertwining their hands together and leading Brittany down the sidewalk.

* * *

><p>Quinn shoves the key in and twists it, simultaneously pulling down the door handle and is instantly met by the darkness of the apartment. She frowns as she switches the lights on and quickly throws her bag and blazer onto the couch before checking both her roommates' rooms, but finding them both empty. Quinn takes out her phone, and rolls her eyes when she realises she had forgotten to turn it on all day. She turns it on and moves to pour herself a glass of water from the tap as she waits for it to load. It buzzes in her hand just as she returns to collapse onto the couch, signifying that she has a text.<p>

_1 new message: Tina_

_Hey I have a late shift so will be back probably after midnight. :/ Don't bother saving me food x_

The message was sent at around six which is over three hours ago so Quinn doesn't bother replying. She checks again, in case Santana had left her a message but her voicemail is empty. Quinn feels guilty for kicking Santana out of the car, even though it had been necessary, and now as she sits alone in the quiet apartment, she begins to grow worried about her roommate's whereabouts. Quinn takes a sip from her glass of water, eyes still on the screen as she presses various buttons to call her roommate. She presses it to her ear and hears it ring for a long time.

"Hey."

"Santana, where are you?"

"Hello?"

"Hey, can you hear me?"

"I can't hear you, hello?"

"It's Quinn, where are-"

"Psyche!" Santana laughs, "I'm not actually here you loser, this is my voicemail. Leave me a message, bitch!" Groaning, Quinn cuts off the call (this happens every single time, yet she still falls for it _every single time_) and tries dialling again.

"Hey."

"If this is your annoying voicemail again I will scream." Santana (the real one, finally) laughs, albeit covered by a lot of background music and general noise.

"Every time Quinn, damn you make it too easy."

"Shut up. Now where are you? Why is it so noisy?"

"I'm in Brooklyn with Britt-Britt," Quinn rolls her eyes at the nickname.

"Why?"

"You know that arcade we always went to when we were kids?" A wave of nostalgia hits Quinn, she instantly recognised that cheesy music in the background as it briefly transports her back to her childhood years.

"Oh we used to absolutely love that place, it had the best DDR machine," Santana laughs again.

"Britts is on it right now – you go Brittany, woo!" Quinn is honestly not jealous or anything remotely similar but her possessive nature flashes through her momentarily (after all, that arcade had been _their_ place during the middle school years) before Quinn brushes off the unnecessary and seriously out-of-date feelings.

"Wait, how did you even get there? I took the car." More cheering and slurs of Spanglishin (that's Spanish, English and Mandarin all rolled into each other) can be heard through the phone as Quinn chuckles at how obvious it is that her friend has had far too much to drink (but luckily hasn't hit the completed wasted I'm-going-to-bawl-my-eyes-out-at-every-little-thing stage… yet).

"Oh Britt borrowed her friend's one or something. So why did you call?"

"Just making sure you're still alive since I left you in the middle of some neighbourhood." Santana tries to snort but it ends up sounding like she's blowing a raspberry.

"Yeah thanks for that _chica_, anyways, I have to get going – these flashing arrows slowly moving upwards are calling me." Quinn laughs.

"Okay, have fun. Are you going to go home later?"

"Nah, but don't worry I'll be _having fun_ all night." Quinn can practically see Santana wiggle her eyebrows.

"You're disgusting."

"Please, you know you love it; I've seen those pathetic excuses of sexting you and Puckerman have been sending each other, god that shit makes me wants to be celibate."

"Santana!" Quinn can hear a voice over the cheesy background music, calling at her roommate.

"Got to go, it's my turn to beat that high score. See ya later, sista!"

* * *

><p>So thanks for reading, remember to comment and next one will be up Tuesday!<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or any other references_

_Thanks to my awesome beta **Dsachao **for this!_

* * *

><p>Santana can feel the soft, bare skin under her palm before she really acknowledges that she's awake. She breathes in deeply and peeks out of one eye to find her vision completely obscured by blonde hair. Reluctant to move her hand away from Brittany's hip, Santana lifts her head and glances around, trying her best not to disturb Brittany's peaceful slumber. They're clearly in a hotel room, a large plasma TV attached on the wall in front of the bed, right above a sleek wooden cabinet. To the left is a thin white semi-see-through sheet covering the glass sliding door, obscuring the tops of trees in Central Park and the other buildings outside. Santana glances at the bed side table, eyes widening when she sees the time.<p>

"Shit, shit, shit." Too hurried to be careful about Brittany, Santana flings back the covers and immediately begins to collect various items of clothing off the cream carpet floor, still chanting expletives.

"San?" Brittany rubs at her eyes, moving to sit in an upright position, "Where are you going?" Santana yanks on her three-quarter length jeans, hating them for being so tight and therefore impossible to get on.

"Go back to sleep, baby, I've just got to be in the operating theatre in forty fucking minutes. Mind if I borrow your friend's car?" Brittany hesitates but eventually shrugs.

"Yeah, it's not like she can do anything about it," in the rush to tie up her shoes, Santana misses Brittany's small chuckle.

"Awesome," Santana grabs Brittany's shirt that was discarded on the foot of the bed and pulls it on, buttoning up half of the top and rolling up the sleeves to cover her thin-strap top underneath that she had been wearing yesterday. "I'll see you later then babe," she quickly moves to beside the bed and kisses Brittany lightly and all but runs out of the door.

Closing the hotel door behind her, Santana realises that she has no recollection of how to get to the elevator or anything. Luckily, Brittany's room is at the very end of the corridor, next to a fire exit, so Santana goes straight down the corridor, turning corners and praying that she'll get to an elevator soon. After a few minutes of wrong turns and dead ends, Santana finally locates the thick golden elevator doors and she mashes the down button, as if by breaking that damn downward arrow, the elevator would get there quicker. As soon as the door 'dings' and a sliver of space emerges, Santana slides herself out (exclaiming a 'hallelujah! Praise the freaking lord!' that makes the elderly couple still inside give her even stranger looks than when she crushed the already-lit 'G').

* * *

><p>Quinn is with her Ba at their restaurant below the apartment, sipping at her cup of milky and very sugary tea as she waits for Mike to show up. It's still early and the restaurant isn't open yet for once the place is quiet and peaceful as they chat idly at a circular table near the back.<p>

_"So how is Noah?"_ She shrugs at Ba's question, truth is she hasn't seen him in a while, too swept up about her case for the past few weeks.

_"Fine I think, I haven't really spoken to him."_ Ma, who had been checking the register, comes over and sits on the other side of her husband.

_"Why? Do you not like him anymore? Is there a third person?" _Quinn smiles and shakes her head.

_"No, nothing like that at all, I've just been busy and caught up in work_." One of the chefs pops out from the door to the kitchen and gestures at Ba hurriedly. He smiles at Quinn before rising to meet the chef.

_"Quinn, you need to spend more time with him. How about you invite him for dinner tonight at your apartment? Tell him I'll get the chefs to cook and bring the food up. I'll even tell them make pork in orange honey sauce." _

Quinn laughs, the last time Puck had ate them, Santana had thrown down her chopsticks in disgust, claiming that Puck's orgasm face was putting her off her food. _"Okay, I'll call him later."_

Ma smiles_. "And tell Santana to bring that girl she's been dating. Have you met her?" _

Quinn nods. _"Just once, she's really pretty. I don't know much about her though."_

_"But she makes your sister happy, yes?" _

Quinn smiles fondly, Ma and Ba only care if the people they're all dating are good for them or not. _"Very much so." _

Ma nods approvingly. _"Good. Michael needs to come too, your Ba and I want to meet all the people that my three, precious girls are seeing."_

Quinn takes a sip from her cup, giving herself time to find a way to bring in a new related subject. _"How would you feel if Mike and Tina split up?" _

Ma looks taken aback. Quinn winces, that didn't come out quite so smooth and subtle-sounding as it did in her head.

_"They are not together anymore? What happened?" _Quinn places a hand on her Ma's shoulder to calm her before sliding it back to cup the mug.

_"No! They are still… they're still what they always were_," Quinn clears her throat, not quite capable of lying to her_, "but I was just saying, hypothetically-speaking, if they were to break up and say um, in this hypothetical universe, Tina starts to date other people, what would you do? I mean, the hypothetical you."_

Ma frowns and moves to occupy the vacant chair closer to Quinn that Ba had vacated.

_"Well, I would be disappointed because Michael is a good boy, he suits Tina well and together, they can have the best in life. But forcing her with him isn't going to make her happy so I would understand."_

Quinn nods quickly; this was going better than she thought.

_"Okay, so say she wanted to date someone else then, say… I don't know someone completely random… like, Artie?" _

Ma pauses a little, trying to remember who that was, before shaking her head vigorously.

_"No that I cannot allow." _

Quinn shuffles a little closer_. "Now, be honest with me Ma, is it because he's handicapped?" _

_"No Quinn! How could you even think of me like that!" _

Instantly, Quinn pats her Ma's hand lightly, feeling guilty about her obvious distress. "_I don't! Of course I don't, you and Ba are the most open parents, and I know that." _

Quinn never once took Ma and Ba's acceptance for granted; her own parents had disowned her during the last year of college when they found out about the girl that Quinn was dating at the time. Luckily, Tina's parents had all but adopted her, willingly funding her through the rest of the year and giving her a home and family, one she treasured more than her previous one.

_"I was speaking hypothetically remember? It's just, well, you and Ba didn't seem to like him very much at that barbeque last year."_

_"It's not that he can't walk, but there is something off with him – your Ba and I just knew that he isn't a good person. Not only does he have no future and will only drag Tina down, he also has an awful personality."_

Quinn raises an eyebrow.

_"But he didn't even speak much that day, how would you know?" _

Ma shakes her head.

_"I just can Quinn. Given the chance to be with your sister, he'll take it, we could clearly see the way he looked at her. But believe me that relationship will end in nothing but tears and heartbreak for Tina. I could never allow myself to allow her to be with someone that will ultimately do her harm." _

Quinn frowns, but just as she's about to speak again, she spots Mike running past the front window and flinging the door open. Quinn get to her feet and moves around the tables towards him as he catches his breath.

"Mike, what's wrong?"

"We have to go, there's been another victim."

* * *

><p>Mike pulls up right beside the sectioned-off area, police tape blocking the crowd of nosy bystanders and journalists. The team who are working quickly on clearing the scene are deep within the alley behind a restaurant. They get out of the car, badges flashing to an officer, who nods and allows them under the tape. Quinn recognises the restaurant straight away: Golden Phoenix is a less than ten-minute walk away from the Columbia University Medical Centre – she comes here with Tina and Santana at least once every two months.<p>

Mike leads Quinn down the gap down the side of the building before turning to a square-shaped area. Bins are pushed to the back and various people are milling around, some taking photos of the untouched body still on the ground, others swiping for any evidence. Quinn takes in the stunning dress, flowing hair and flawless make-up with a sinking feeling deep inside her chest. It is horrible to know that it's her fault they still haven't found Prince Charming. Another innocent woman is murdered, because of her. Quinn grabs at a person, dressed head to toe in white, who's taking photos.

"What time was she discovered?"

"Just over an hour ago, when one of the waiters came out for a smoke."

"And have you found anything?"

The man shakes his head. "Just the standard, ma'am."

Quinn sighs.

"The owner is in the kitchen if you want to talk to him."

She nods in thanks and releases the man back to his work.

Quinn dodges around the other people looming around with Mike right behind her and finally reaches the back door which already opened and the smell of grease is already filling the air. Ignoring it to her best ability, Quinn steps in and immediately sees the owner leaning against a huge fridge, reading the newspaper.

"Mr Li?" A middle aged man with a receding hairline peeks up from the broadsheet and smiles.

"Quinn! I haven't seen you or the other two in a while." As he folds the newspaper away, she moves closer and gives him a handshake, aware of Mike following her, pulling out his notebook and pen from his blazer.

"We've all been really busy lately and I'm sorry that we had to meet again in these circumstances."

Quinn notices his face drop briefly before a large fake grin appears on his face. "What do you mean? There's free publicity from all these news reporters outside."

Quinn smiles back politely.

"Would you like something to drink? Or eat? I can get someone to make you something if you haven't had breakfast yet."

"Thank you but I'm fine. I'm afraid I'm here to take down statements and ask a few questions. This is my partner, Agent Chang. Mike?" Mike does a half wave.

"Tina's cousin?"

"Not just a coincidence, my parents own that optical shop over in Manhattan."

Mr Li nods in understanding. "Oh my mistake, my wife always buys glasses at your folks' place – very good prices."

Mike laughs. Quinn clears her throat, an attempts to bring the atmosphere back to professional.

"So Mr Li, do you mind if we take a few questions? With you and the person who discovered the body?"

The restaurant owner sobers up and nods.

"Of course, come with me." Mr Li guides them through another door, leading into the main restaurant area where there was a group of waiters chatting around the table against the far wall. Quinn could see silhouettes of a mass of people outside the shop window which thankfully was covered by thick white curtains to keep away prying eyes.

"Nicholas!"

The head of a waiter snaps up. He looks fairly young, maybe 17 or 18 years old, with dyed light brown hair which flops rather adorably over his forehead.

"Yeah?" The boy rises to his feet, hands wringing together in front of him.

"This is Agent Fabray and Agent Chang, they need to talk to you."

He looks at them both silently and follows them over to a rectangular 4-seater table on the opposite side of the room, the group of waiters return to their conversations but now quieter and more subdued. Quinn takes a seat next to Mike, with the nervous-looking boy opposite her. Wasting no time, Quinn receives a nod from Mike before launching into it.

"So you were the one who found the body?" He nods.

"Yeah, man, I just went out for a smoke but there she was…" he blinks quickly a few times, trying to dispel the images burned into his brain.

"So before you, when was the last time anyone went out to the back?"

"Well I was supposed to take out the trash last night, but it was already like midnight and it was freezing outside so I left the garbage by the back door and was going to take out this morning."

Mr Li frowns with disapproval as Nicholas looks away sheepishly.

"So you didn't look out at the back or go outside at all then?"

"There's no window in the kitchen so I couldn't see outside."

Quinn nods and waits for Mike to finish scribbling down the notes before proceeding. Mr Li makes a shooing action, causing Nicholas to stand up, smiling but obviously relieved, and returning over to the other side of the room with the other waiters.

"So as far as I could see, the only way to get to the back is through the side of the restaurant, out onto this front street. Did anyone see anything out of place at all yesterday?"

"It was really busy all day." Mr Li gestures around the restaurant, "the entire place was fully packed, everyone was rushing around and working to have really paid attention to anything else."

"But it's a fairly busy road and there's parking spots right in front, could you have missed something?"

"Those spaces are for loading and unloading various things that we need. In fact, there's a large sign on the street light saying that people can't park here at anytime…"

Mr Li sits up straight suddenly, remembering something.

"How could I have forgotten – there's been a few burglaries in the neighbourhood lately, so I put up a little camera just outside."

Quinn perks up. "Where is the camera facing?"

Mr Li turns around to look at the front, but the crowd of silhouettes are still outside. "I would show you but I'm afraid that isn't possible. It's attached to the side of the front wall." Mr Li straightens his hand out over the table to represent the wall as he points along various places on his hand.

"The camera is right here in the corner and twisted to look back along the wall, so I should show you the front door and the alley entrance." Adrenaline races through Quinn – this could be the breakthrough to end the slow progress they had been making.

"And the tape? Where is it?"

"The camera is connected to this machine in the storage room, let me go get it." Mr Li rises and disappears off, leaving Mike to finish off writing and Quinn to try to suppress the urge to bounce around in her seat. Unable to fully contain herself, Quinn grabs Mike's arm and beams at him.

"This is it, Mikey, this is it. I can feel it, if someone walks down there and doesn't work here; it's got to be him. I'm absolutely positive we're going to catch the Prince." 

* * *

><p><em>I have an exam tomorrow but I thought I'd update today instead of revise =) So sorry there's littlepractically no Brittana in this but after the next one the plot really starts laying in. Just three more chapters to go now so remember to spread the existence this fic ;) and comment! Thanks._


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or any other references_

_Thanks to my awesome beta **Dsachao **for this!_

* * *

><p>The blonde blinks and chews her lip anxiously, hands twirling the box of chocolate in her hands. (They had bought the chocolates together, it was a brand that Ma liked but wasn't her favourite, so it wasn't obvious that Santana had helped. Eventually they had had to buy two boxes because they'd finished the entire first box within ten minutes of the car journey back.)<p>

"Quinn hates me, so I'm sure her boyfriend does too and maybe Tina or Tina's boyfriend doesn't like me either." Brittany stares at her shuffling feet. "But worst of all, what if your Ma doesn't like me?"

Santana smiles affectionately and lifts Brittany's head up with a hand on the chin to give her a light kiss.

"Quinn doesn't hate you, she was just acting like an idiot last time because she's concerned about me and while Puckerman is a completely genuine Grade A douche, he'll like you far too much. You know why? Because you're smoking hot. And Tina and Mike aren't even capable of disliking anything so I wouldn't worry about that either."

Brittany perks up a little.

"And your Ma?"

Santana moves even closer and tilts her own head up so her lips can brush with Brittany's.

"I like you," Santana whispers, pulling back mere centimetres. "Because I like you, she'll love you."

Brittany grins and reconnects the kiss. Vaguely aware of the box trapped between them and sort of (not really) caring that they might get crushed, Santana reluctantly breaks the kiss and smiles at Brittany. "You ready?"

With the blonde's nod, Santana moves away to press on the door bell, she can hear faint sounds of cooking and voices inside before the door swings open and Puck appears. Much to Santana's disgust, he wastes no time running his eyes up and down Brittany.

"I approve big time Lopez, you may enter." Luckily for Puck, Quinn stalks down the little corridor and manages to pry him away by the ear, before Santana can fully sink her nails into him.

"Go wash your hands, dinner is ready – now." Puck trails away, pretending not to hear Santana's loud whipping noises as he knows if he turns back around, he'll get into trouble with Quinn.

"Just ignore him and his repulsive remarks."

Quinn holds out her hand.

"It's great to see you again."

Brittany hands over the chocolates to Santana before bypassing the formal hand and going straight in for a hug. Quinn stumbles backward a step and awkwardly pats Brittany on the back, staring at Santana helplessly over her shoulder.

"Oh hey, you guys finally got here."

Brittany lets go of Quinn and almost immediately jumps in exactly the same way on Tina, who appears out of her room with Mike. Santana closes the door finally, inwardly worried that her family might be overwhelmed by Brittany. She moves to press a gentle hand on Brittany's lower back and the blonde understands, because she releases Tina and smiles brightly at her.

"Okay Brittany, so you've already met Quinn and Tina, and this hot guy here is Mike."

He waves at her as he leans against the wall just behind Tina.

"The douche just now was Puckerman and this…"

Santana takes Brittany's hand and leads her a few steps fully into the apartment where Ma is finishing putting plates around the table.

"…This is my Asian mother. Ma?"

Upon hearing her name being called, Ma swivels around to smile warmly at them.

"Hello, you must be Brittany."

Santana slips the box back into Brittany's hands and pushes her lightly forward.

"Hi Mrs Chang, it's lovely to meet you. You look really great… I mean not just for your age and I'm not saying you're old or anything, I'm just saying you look – wonderful and you have an awesome home, well I know it's not your home, it's your daughters' apartment and it's super cool that even though two of them aren't really your daughters you've still practically adopted them and are so kind to them and it sorta reminds me of this time well this time when I found a kitten on the street and I took it home and I – "

Santana nudges Brittany softly, whose babble abruptly cuts off, along with a blush.

"Brittany got you some chocolate."

Brittany blinks and nods rapidly, holding out the box to Ma (and the others who're also hovering in the kitchen, getting out cups and drinks) who had been listening amusedly.

"Thank you." Ma takes the box and looks carefully at it. "I love these, thank you."

She smiles at Brittany again.

Santana represses her urge to laugh. Brittany had gone from speaking non-stop to being unable to speak at all.

"I have some bad news I'm afraid, the restaurant downstairs is really busy right now, so your Ba and I have to go help out and won't be able to have this meal with you."

"Oh." Santana can't help but feel a bit dejected; she had been torn between anxiety and excitement about this meal all day. "Okay, I understand."

"I'm very sorry, maybe next time?"

Santana doesn't reply, doesn't want to assume that Brittany would even want to come over again, but her worry evaporates when Brittany answers for her.

"That'll be great."

Ma smiles at the two of them once more before moving to leave. "Okay now, all of you enjoy dinner, I won't come back up to check on you, but I hope none of you get too drunk."

Santana smirks at the various poker-faces and who?-innocent-lil'- me?-never expressions. She hears the front door open and her Ma's voice call out.

"Santana?"

"Yeah?" There's a brief silence apart from a tap going off in the bathroom.

"She's lovely."

Santana smiles, as does everyone else apart from Brittany, who's frowning, lightly intrigued at the switch of language.

"Thanks Ma."

* * *

><p>"So Quinn, what was the big deal that you had to throw me out the car for yesterday?"<p>

The group of friends are gathered around in the living room area, Quinn's playlist of classical pieces playing softly in the background. Santana and Brittany are lying, legs all over each other, on the loveseat with a blanket over them (Quinn had made them pinky-promise her that there was to be no funny business underneath it) while Puck, who had actually fallen asleep ten minutes ago, is with Quinn and Tina on the couch. Mike relaxes on the floor with his back pressed against the wall beside the TV, facing the others. Each of them has a glass of red wine either in their hands or on the coffee table between them.

"That's confidential."

Santana makes an odd noise in her throat, a little too tipsy to really care (not that she normally does anyways).

"Come on; let's not go down that bullshit road again. Everyone here can be trusted right?"

Santana pats her own knee but it turns out to be Brittany's. The blonde looks at her and smiles, nodding in agreement.

"Exactly, so spill, you found something out about the case?"

Quinn stubbornly shakes her head, but Puck jerks slightly and instinctively wraps his arm around Quinn's shoulders, drawing her into his chest comfortably.

"Okay fine, all I can say is, we found a connection between all the victims."

Quinn chuckles lightly and points at Santana's intrigued face with the rim of her nearly empty glass.

"You were the one who gave me the idea. All the victims are in some way related to the field of medicine – interns, doctors, students of medicine."

Quinn ignores the one that doesn't fit the pattern, since they're close to cracking the odd behaviour of the father anyway.

"Oh shit."

Santana shuffles slightly to lean more against Brittany, who's quiet and taken aback by the discovery too.

"This has got to be one sick guy. Doctors are there to save your life; guess he must have had some sort of trauma as a kid with hospitals or something."

Santana shivers and Brittany presses a kiss to her temple.

"That's why from now on, either Mike or myself will drive you home, you too Tina. I'm not letting you guys take any risks."

Mike nods, reaching forward to refill his glass. "Another victim was found this morning, it was at that Golden Phoenix place a few streets down from the hospital."

Both Santana and Tina's eyes widen in shock.

"Fucking hell, that's seriously hitting close to home – is Mr Li all right?"

Quinn nods, adjusting against Puck to get into a more comfortable position.

"He's putting on a brave face but he'll be fine eventually, just a bit shaken up."

"Are you going to be able to catch this guy soon?"

Quinn looks towards Brittany, who had been rather quiet during the latest topic of conversation. Quinn can understand that she's the only one in the room who isn't used to talking about things like this.

"Hopefully."

Mike glances at Quinn and recognises the look in her eyes that tells him to keep quiet about the tape. Quinn's highly superstitious and across the years, she's always refused to talk about things like that before sealing the case, believing that it would jinx it and ruin the evidence.

"You'd better Q, this is some scary shit."

Quinn nods, noting the conversation's end and the sleepy expressions of her friends. "Speaking of this, we have loads to do at the office tomorrow, so I think it's time we head to bed."

Simultaneously, the others start stretching and slowly rising to their feet. Santana watches Quinn gently wake Puck and points him towards her room where he stumbles over slowly.

"Well, I should get going."

Santana's eyes snap back to Brittany and she glances at the clock – it's almost two in the morning.

"Oh yeah, it's really late now. You can stay with me if you want; I have spare sets of clothes and things."

"Okay cool," Brittany agrees straightaway with a smile playing at her lips, as if she had been waiting for Santana to invite her.

"Hey Mike."

He looks up and realises it's Tina who called out to him.

"…You can stay here too if you want, I don't mind sharing a bed to be honest… or you could have the couch if you prefer?"

He smiles but shakes his head.

"Thanks but you know it's only a two minute walk to my place, so I might as well head back."

Tina shrugs and nods, waving a goodnight at everyone before moving to her room and closing the door.

"I'd best be off now."

Quickly he moves around the three remaining girls to give them all a hug.

"It was nice to hang out with you again Santana. Quinn, I'll swing by to pick you up at the normal time, and it was really nice to meet you Brittany."

Together they see him out, waving and exchanging more goodbyes before heading back to the table to wash up.

"You guys can go to bed, I don't mind cleaning up." Santana accepts Quinn's offer immediately, (not only does she feel like she's about to fall asleep standing if she blinks too slowly, but Santana knows that Quinn loves to wash up. She's always been a bit of a neat freak and likes using the time to reflect and think on things) but Brittany shakes her head.

"It's okay; we can't let you do all the work."

Santana scoffs, already dragging her away.

"Sure we can. Thanks Q. Oh and Britts has a car now, so she can drive me to work tomorrow and you don't have to worry about that."

"All right, but if I'm not picking you up when you get off then text me okay? Night guys." Quinn turns back to be alone with her thoughts, the cutlery and the plates.

Santana leads Brittany back to her room and opens the door, allowing Brittany to enter before shutting it and flinging herself onto the soft bed, patting the comforter beside her. Brittany looks around; the queen size bed dominates the middle of the room, while a closet sits in the corner next to the window on one side and a door that Brittany guesses leads to a private bathroom. There's a work desk where a laptop is hidden under a cluster of papers, while the vanity unit beside it is covered with an impressive array of cosmetics.

"Honest thoughts – how was the evening?" Santana moves to a sitting position to change into her pyjamas, watching Brittany pick up and inspect a framed photo of her with Quinn and Tina posing cheekily outside the entrance of Disneyland when they were in sixth grade.

"The meal was delicious and the entire night was great fun, everyone's awesome."

Santana sighs a little with relief as she digs deeper into the closet and pulls out a pair of shorts that are slightly too big for her and her old, soft Columbia hoodie.

"Good."

Santana tosses the clothes onto the bed and slides up directly behind Brittany, wrapping her arms around her waist and settling her chin onto the blonde's shoulder. She peaks over to see which photo Brittany's looking at now and recognises it instantly – Santana grinning widely with a graduation cap and a scroll in her hand. Her father is on the right with a hand grasping her shoulder, and her mother stands on the left; pride evident in both of their eyes.

"You've never talked about them before." Santana follows Brittany's thumb tracing the curve of her father's face (she had gotten her bone structure exactly from him). Despite not having known Brittany all that long, Santana can feel her heart pulling her. To trust Brittany (if she doesn't already) and to open up and allow herself to share and let someone outside of her carefully chosen circle in. She takes a few steps back with her hands tugging Brittany's waist gently, so that she can sit on the bed with the blonde occupying the space in front of her.

"This was my high school graduation day. I was going to go to Columbia and study medicine, just like Tina, but I had no idea which field to pursue specifically."

Brittany leans back against Santana, tilts her head slightly to rest against the crook of her neck.

"Around half-way through sophomore year, my parents got into a car accident. The lorry driver was coming downhill too fast and… couldn't break in time. Apparently their spines snapped almost instantly and from that day on, I knew I was going to be an orthopaedic surgeon."

Santana shrugs carelessly, but a single tear trickles over.

Brittany lifts her hand to gently brush it away. She quickly places the photo back where she found it and encourages Santana to take her spot underneath the covers. Without a word, she switches off the lights and slips into the sleepwear laid out for her. Santana does nothing apart from watch Brittany's silhouette dance, ghost-like, as she moves around, slipping in and out of clothes, the curves of her body highlighted by the streetlights of the city. Brittany slides in and shuffles until they're nose to nose, hearts pressed together and legs intertwined. For a while, neither of them speaks, both content with simply looking. Brittany breathes words across Santana's lips in the darkness.

"My mom was a heavy smoker and a year back, she had a stroke. My family all came over here to New York City because there was this stroke speciality unit or something over in Brooklyn. Eventually, she died because the people there didn't give her medicine in time and didn't take care of her enough."

Santana squeezes Brittany's waist but the blonde simply shrugs.

The two don't speak after that, instead communicating with light fingertips across skin and soft lips connecting gently.

* * *

><p>"All right, so has someone gone through the tape yet?"<p>

Mike tosses his jacket on the back of his chair before sitting down, while Quinn perches on his desk, leg bouncing around uncontrollably. There's a pile of photos on the desk next to a file, pictures that had been developed from the camera of that medical student – Jessie. Quinn pushes the photos aside and twirls the thin folder around.

"Relax," he replies, "there are hours upon hours of footage on that thing so give them time, I'm sure that Jacob Israel kid is working on it."

Quinn shivers.

"I hate that he personally insists on doing everything in our cases every time. He's useful, definitely, but far too creepy. He's obsessed with me."

Mike laughs, head thrown back in mirth.

"Well you never know, maybe the one he's trying to impress is actually me," he bats his eyelashes dramatically and makes kissing sounds.

Quinn gets caught somewhere between bursting out laughing and cringing with disgust.

"Eww… ok enough about him, I would rather keep my breakfast inside my stomach and not all over your desk thanks."

Quinn picks up a file on Mike's table and inspects it. "So. Doctor Michael Anderson. The strange father who doesn't seem to be affected by his only daughter's death."

Mike moves towards the coffee machine to prepare two cups for them. "Got anything about him?"

Quinn skims down the page, looking out for anything interesting.

"He seems like an average man – 52 years old, been married for 25 years and no previous criminal records." She flicks to the next page, "He and his wife are very social, they attend a lot of balls and get together with people of similar status."

Mike returns and sets down the cups carefully beside her. "Was his relationship with his daughter good?"

Quinn shakes her head in a non-committal way.

"Not particularly, the parents didn't seem to stay at home much – always busy with work or parties," she flips another page to a newspaper article. "Maybe that's why he doesn't care. Because they were never that –"

Quinn stops, eyes glued to the sheet of paper. Mike looks at her curiously.

"What's wrong?" He stands and leans forward, twisting his neck to read what Quinn is staring at.

"Oh shit."

* * *

><p><em>Sorry for a) another cliffhanger b) another short chapter. That's only because there are two more chapters and promise things are going to kick off in the next one! Comments are, like always, much appreciated.<em>


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or any other references_

_Thanks to my awesome beta **Dsachao **for this!_

* * *

><p>Santana pulls on a light blue shirt, rolling up the sleeves and leaving the very top (okay, maybe the top three) buttons open. She's just come out of the operating theatre and now has a severe headache from concentrating and straining to be precise as she reattaches severed nerves and blood vessels together. She wonders again why you have to stand during surgery. Just as she grabs her blood-stained scrubs and shoves them into a basket to be cleaned, she hears a knock. Surprised, she looks up and sees Brittany through the tinted glass on the door. Santana moves quickly to open the door for her.<p>

"Hey," Brittany kisses her lightly on the lips.

"Hi, what are you doing here?"

The blonde grins and shrugs. "I have something that I need to tell you so I thought I'd come pick you up and we can go head back to the hotel or something."

"What do you want to tell me?" Santana raises one eyebrow in a Quinn-like manner, "And how did you know I was going to finish at this time?"

Brittany blushes and shuffles her feet sheepishly.

"Well, I sort of maybe looked at the schedule list on your phone yesterday." Brittany quickly reveals a bunch of lavender from behind her, "But I also now know your room is light purple so I thought some lavender would really go with it."

Santana instantly forgets about the intrusion of privacy and smiles sweetly, taking the flowers from her. She is already able to detect the distinct floral aroma without having to lean in.

"Thanks. Let me just grab my jacket and I have to sign a few forms. You're not allowed in here though, so just wait here for a minutes. Oh, and hold these for a bit too." Brittany nods understandingly as Santana returns the flowers to her briefly, accompanied with another light kiss, before disappearing back into the room, the door shutting firmly.

* * *

><p>Mike quickly looks at Quinn, then at the page. He opens his mouth, about to speak and closes it again, deciding just to read:<p>

**NOT THE WAY TO THANK YOUR DOCTOR**

_50¢ Daily News March 19 2010_

_The trial has been going on for three months and today, the jury finally brought it to an end. Three months ago, the respected and well-known Dr Michael Anderson, who specialises in psychology, was accused by a patient of sexual abuse: 16-year-old Abigail Pierce, from small town Lima, Ohio. Upon the passing of her mother two months prior to the accusation, Ms Pierce had been under the care of Dr Anderson, being treated for insomnia and night terrors. However three months ago, she stepped out and accused the doctor, who had been nothing but supportive in her journey to normality, of having abused her sexually for over seven weeks._

_It was clear from the start that these were false allegations. A beloved doctor, a professional who had worked for almost thirty years had been accused by a confused and grieving teenager who was mentally unstable after her mother's death – the case should have closed on the first day._

_Luckily, despite having been dragged out, Dr Anderson's name was finally cleared. Not only was there was there a distinct lack of evidence to begin with, but the so called 'victim' finally admitted to having made the entire story up. She was apparently overwhelmed by the loss of her mother and in that fragile state of mind, had suffered delusions as a result. After recovering, she was able to clear the doctor's good name. Dr Anderson will now continue serving the people of New York, having been proven innocent. He released a personal statement yesterday: "I was never worried to begin with, since I had never acted in any way other than completely professionally. I do however, feel glad that Abigail is once again well and hope she knows what she did was wrong." Ms Pierce refused to answer questions from journalists after her appearance in court, her head bowed in shame as she scuttled back home to Ohio._

Quinn re-reads the article again before absorbing the pictures next to the text. The man Quinn presumes is Dr Anderson is making a show of kissing his wife on her cheek, while a girl that Quinn recognises as his daughter, Taylor, stands next to them, looking away, embarrassed. The other photo is the girl – Abigail Pierce – being completely surrounded with people armed with cameras and microphones. Her head is down, hair obscuring her face, with her family around her supportively. The father has his arm around her waist, the other shoving back the photographers. Quinn narrows her eyes and leans closer. Right there on the page is Brittany, cradling Abigail's head to lean against her shoulder, the picture capturing the worried and angry glint in those blue, blue eyes.

* * *

><p>"Doesn't your friend want her car back? We've hijacked it for a while."<p>

Brittany shrugs.

"I think I'm going to steal it for a few more days."

"Okay, sure. So anyways, now, I know you like hot cheese, so I've been scoping around and there's this little Swiss restaurant over in Queen's that make the best fondue or something. I was planning on taking you this weekend, but now that you're already here and everything…well we might as well go tonight."

Brittany squeals and causes Santana's heart to skip two beats when she claps adorably (as well as letting go of the steering wheel when turning into the parking lot).

"Yay! San you're the best." Brittany reaches to grab her hand, squeezing it affectionately before leaving their joint hands on her lap. Santana shrugs as she kicks off her shoes so she can sit cross-legged in the passenger seat.

"And by the way, what is it that you wanted to tell me? Can't you just say it now?" Brittany's grin slips slightly and she blinks twice before shaking her head and untangling their hands, moving it back to grip the wheel tightly.

"You've waited this long already, just let me park the car then we can head up to my room."

Santana huffs and moves her lonely hand back.

"Fine. But this better be some pretty important news and I demand some sexy-time before we head out for dinner later."

Santana shuffles about in her seat to pull out her phone from her tight jean pocket.

"What are you doing?"

Santana slides her finger across the screen and taps a quick text. "Telling Quinn not to pick me up after work."

Brittany slows the car down into a parking spot and switches off the engine, watching Santana type out a quick message to her flatmate. As soon as Santana sends the message, Brittany leans across and takes the phone, switching it off before Santana even realises there's nothing in her hands.

"Err, excuse me but I need that on – I'm on call for any emergencies today." Brittany shakes her head stubbornly and leans in to kiss her.

"Well sucks for them, because I need you more than they do." Santana can feel goose-bumps rising in up arms at Brittany's low, seductive voice and her dwindling ability to think or respond as a coherent human being vanishes when Brittany closes the distance between them again.

* * *

><p>"Look. Brittany."<p>

Mike stares at where Quinn is pointing, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Oh my god, it is. Do you think Santana knows about her sister and all this?" Quinn shrugs, mind already whirring.

"I don't know, maybe, Brittany seems like an open person and the two are really close now."

She pulls out the newspaper article and hands it over to Mike and flicks hastily through the rest of the file. "Dr Anderson didn't want us to go through his past and apart from this little case, there's nothing else that stands out. What's so important about this if it was all a lie?"

"He's ashamed of it maybe? But the girl herself said it was all false," Mike shakes his head, "and how is this even related to his daughter's death? I'm beyond confused right now."

Quinn pats Mike's shoulder.

"Hey it's okay, I-" Quinn's phone vibrates in her trousers pocket; she fishes it out and presses various buttons to open the text.

_1 new message: Santana_

_B collected me. Think I'm going to take her later to that restaurant I googled the other day. I'll be coming but not home ;) love ya bitch xx_

Before Quinn can send a reply about the newspaper article the door slams open, revealing Jacob Israel who stands looking smug with a memory stick held in the air.

"Agent Fabray, I have right here the cut down video you've been after. I've only kept the parts where someone enter the alley like you asked."

Quinn jumps up, heart racing as Jacob shuffles around the other desks towards them.

"Oh thank you so much -" Quinn reaches out to take the little stick but Jacob pulls it away from her.

"You know, Quinn, if I may call you that now that I've helped you in six cases; I stayed up all night and all day looking through that tape you gave me. Now as you know, I've never once complained all this time about helping you but for once, all I ask in return is one little-"

Mike slams his hand on the desk, the coffee judders around, threatening to spill over the edge. He raises from his seat to his full height to stand at least a head taller than Jacob.

"This is your job."

Quinn blinks, she rarely ever sees Mike so riled up: whenever they had to play 'good cop, bad cop', Mike would always be the kind, smiley one.

"Don't you dare, for one second, think that you can come in here and demand anything when all you've done is the work that you've been paid to do."

Quinn feels a bit nauseous just thinking about it, but she's pretty sure Jacob has interrupted his cowering to wet his pants.

"I –"

Mike lifts his hand, causing Jacob to flinch. All Mike does is reach out to take the memory stick.

"Now thank you for doing your part in this investigation. You can leave."

Quinn has never seen someone run faster around those desks and out of that door. She manages to contain herself until the door clicks shut, before bursting into laughter as Mike collapses back into his chair.

"Oh my goodness Mikey, what came over you?" Mike chuckles lightly too, switching on the computer in front of him.

"Honestly, I think I just had enough of him. It was either say all that stuff or deck him one for staring at you so – _lewdly_."

Mike crinkles his nose in disgust as Quinn pulls up a nearby chair to sit next to him.

"Aww, well aren't you my hero." She reaches up to pat him on the head much like she would pat a loyal dog.

"I would say that I was your Prince Charming but I think that name has been forever ruined for me."

She laughs, waiting for the computer to boot up.

"I can't believe we finally have it, the video of the killer. If we can't clearly see the face or a number plate or something that could help then I think I might just die from frustration."

* * *

><p>It's a while before Santana and Brittany finally leave the car and make their way, arms wrapped securely around each other's waists the entire time, through the lobby and up to the hotel room. Brittany slides her card in and unlocks the door, holding it open for Santana before closing it gently behind herself.<p>

"So then what is that you have to tell me?"

Santana places the lavender gently on the bedside table and pulls off her shoes and jacket, carelessly leaving them sprawled over the floor before jumping onto the large, soft bed as Brittany draws the curtain.

"I like you."

Brittany swivels around and moves closer. Despite Santana patting the spot beside her invitingly, Brittany sits on the chair by the desk, resting her forearms on the back of the chair.

"I like you too."

Santana frowns; maybe Brittany wants to announce her love for her. She wasn't entirely sure if it was love but Santana now knows, without a doubt, that she had fallen hard the moment Brittany first spoke to her.

"I like you so, so, so much San. Like, a lot. But," Brittany takes in a deep breath, "I think we should stop seeing each other."

* * *

><p>The computer finally loads up the desktop with a background of Mike, his best friend Matt as well as Santana, Quinn and Tina, all jumping in the air with cheesy grins on their faces and legs bent to the side in a true high school musical fashion. Mike wastes no time in plugging the stick into the USB port while Quinn drums her finger along the desk impatiently. A little box pops up to announce that memory stick is ready to be accessed.<p>

"Next meeting, I am going to demand faster computers."

Mike laughs and clicks on the folder, seeing just one item inside.

"Okay here we go then."

Mike double clicks the item and a video begins to load up.

* * *

><p>Santana wants to laugh. She wants to cry. She wants to scream and shout and tear the room down. But she does nothing and remains silent, staring unblinkingly at Brittany who's chewing her lips and gazing back at her anxiously.<p>

"San?"

The blonde moves to get up but Santana shakes her head.

"Why?"

If she wasn't so numb she would be surprised at how calm she sounds. Brittany falls back into the chair, avoiding eye contact.

"I know it's make no sense. But… but I can't tell you why."

"That's bullshit." The gleam of wetness in Brittany's eyes ignites Santana's anger.

"You're breaking up with me? We were fine yesterday, then you come over to the hospital with flowers and fuck me in the car and then just now say that you can't tell me why but we should split up, oh and don't forget, even though you still really, _really_ like me. What the fuck Brittany?" That headache she had earlier comes stampeding back and it brings all of its friends and family to trample around too.

"Santana-"

She holds up a hand up to silence her.

"Stop saying my name and just tell me what the fuck is going on."

"I can't," Brittany pleas but Santana simply stabs a finger at her.

"Yes you fucking can, because I refuse to let you go without an explanation at least. Is there someone else in the picture?"

Brittany blinks.

"I'm just not… good for you."

Despite the situation, Santana can't help but laugh quietly.

"You've watched too much of that Twilight crap again – you're not a vampire who's going to kill me or whatever."

"I do have really sharp canines though," Brittany bares her teeth and Santana can't help her eyes starting to become misty at the action, her chest beginning to grow heavier and heavier.

"Then tell me Britts."

* * *

><p>Mike full-screens the video and clicks play:<p>

_The restaurant door is still closed, blinds still drawn. A large white van stops in front of the restaurant, in one of the loading parking spaces. Two men hop out from the front and go around to the back of the van; they open the door and disappear inside a while. One man re-appears, a large sack of rice over his shoulder and the other one appears too, carrying a large box full of vegetables. They chat as they round the corner, disappearing again down the alley and emerging again to take my food to the back._

_The video blackens and when it comes back, judging by the lightness and the sky it was around midday. Two young boys are walking down the quiet, empty street kicking a soccer ball between them. One of them kicks the ball too hard and his friend misses it as it flies down the alley. The friend puts his hands on his hips and frowns, clearly telling off his companion before rushing down the small gap. The other stays where he is and waits no more than twenty seconds before his friend returns with the ball. _

_The screen fades and returns, by now it has to be around late afternoon or early evening. It's obviously very busy inside the restaurant and another cluster of people are standing on the sidewalk, all smoking as they talk. Suddenly, a steel grey Ford Focus parks in the loading area. The smokers glance at the car briefly before ignoring it and return to their conversations. It isn't until a few minutes have passed before the driver's door opens, the body of the car hiding the person from the camera. All that can be seen is someone dressed in maroon with a cap pulled firmly down their face as they move to the back to open the trunk. It's impossible to tell the sex. The person leans in and pulls out a large sealed rectangular box. They carefully lift it to their shoulder and close the trunk with their spare hand. The box, now being at eye-level of the mysterious person, completely shields their face from the people hovering about outside, as well as the camera as they calmly disappear down the small gap. Nothing interesting happens for over five minutes. The queue of people in the restaurant gets a little shorter and some more people join the smokers outside. Then the capped person finally returns from the alley. With one hand fishing the car keys from their sweatpants pocket, the person quickly lifts their cap up to wipe away sweat before pushing it further down to cover their face. They slowly get back into the car and drive away. The screen once more fades to black._

Quinn jabs the spacebar, pausing the video. Without a word, Quinn reaches over him to take control of the mouse. She drags the bar back a little and hits the spacebar again. They watch in silence before the person emerges again from the alleyway. Quinn pauses right at the moment that the person lifts up the cap briefly. The spacebar tap sounds like a gunshot. Neither of them can quite believe their eyes. It is Brittany.

* * *

><p><em>So I've been replying to comments and leaving other clues within the story to throw people off but for all the people who've been guessing Prince Charming is Brittany all along since the beginning - well done! So just one more chapter to go which will be up maybe Thursday. <strong>Edit: <strong>actually, having spoke to my beta, the next update will be pushed back seeing as the final chapter needs to be changed so sorry, but bear with me!_

_If you're interested in what else I have to write please go to my profile to see other fics I'm currently writing and will post soon (I have stories that are Romeo and Juliet themed and mafia themed on the way!)_

_Comments, as always, much appreciated!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: Don't own Glee or any other references_

_Thanks to my awesome beta **Dsachao **for this!_

* * *

><p>"My sister was raped."<p>

Santana flinches at the blunt statement.

"We took it to court, but he was a successful, powerful doctor and she was nothing but a young girl who was classified at the time as mentally unstable, because she was still traumatised over mom's death. He got people to threaten her to make her step out and say that everything had been a lie. He got away scott free. He went on to become even richer, went to all these balls and bought the best things that life could bring. We took Abigail back home to Lima where she was bullied, mocked and looked down on by everyone and their dogs. He twisted the press and had them say that she was liar and an attention seeker."

"Two months ago, I came home and found her in the bath with her wrists cut. She died before I even got home."

Santana feels conflicted between moving to comfort Brittany eye and asking her why she is telling her this. But Brittany has a foreign, hard glint in her eyes that makes her look dangerous. _Brittany_ looks _dangerous_.

Santana chooses to remain silent.

"Dad struggled to accept mom's death and when Abigail committed suicide as well, it was just too much for him to handle. He turned to drinking everything away and I never really saw him much anymore. There was this one time, though. He had really bad alcohol poisoning and needed surgery. He needed a liver."

Brittany frowns, eyes glazed over like she's living the memory again in her mind. "They turned him down, saying there were other people who needed surgery and needed that liver more than he did. Within two days, he died too."

* * *

><p><em>"The phone you have called is currently switched off, please –"<em>

"Oh for goodness sake, the one time that I actually need to contact you, you have your phone off," Quinn mumbles while pacing circles around Mike's desk as he talks on the phone to someone else.

"Okay, thanks just call me if there's been an update." Mike puts down the phone.

"So do they know who that car belonged to, then? Where is it now?"

He tries to place a hand comfortingly on her shoulder but she simply ignores him and continues to speed around the table.

"Quinn calm down, you being so all over the place isn't going to help."

She stops her frantic walking immediately.

"Calm down?" she snaps back. "_Princess_ Charming is at this very moment somewhere with my _sister_ and you're telling me to _calm down_?"

Mike's flinch cuts through her blind frustration. She sighs, gripping the cellphone in her hand tightly.

"I'm sorry Mikey I didn't mean to shout at you."

He shakes his head forgivingly.

"It's all right, Santana's a good friend of mine too and trust me, I'm terrified as well. But right now, what we need to do is focus and be professional, no matter how difficult it is to ignore the urge to run out and waste time by pointlessly going around the streets."

She takes in a deep breath, closing her eyes and counting up to ten and returning back to zero for good measure before releasing the air from her lungs, slightly less hysterical than she was before.

"Okay, I get it," Quinn shakily moves back to sit down on the chair next to Mike. "So what did they say about the car?"

Mike shakes his head regretfully.

"The number plate was checked but apparently the car belongs to the latest victim and they'll inform us if they track it down."

Quinn sinks into her seat a little, groaning before sitting up straight abruptly.

"My god, the victim, of course, how could I have forgotten."

She frantically starts to ruffle through all the files, tucked away neatly on the desk.

"Quinn…?"

She takes out one particular folder and flicks through the pages, trailing her finger down the names and contact details of people.

"That friend of Jessie – Kayla – she saw Jessie with another girl in a hotel. I'm willing to bet that the girl was Brittany, so she'll be able to tell us which hotel she's staying at, at least."

Quinn points to the stack of photos in the corner of the desk. "Go through that and look out for any photos of Brittany."

* * *

><p>"Hey, I'm sorry to hear about your family – is this why you moved away from your hometown?"<p>

Brittany shrugs, confusing Santana by her nonchalant actions, as if she's beyond fazed by the tragic memories of her family.

"Yeah I guess so. You know, I've always loved watching Superman and I suppose that's what I'm trying to do here – to fly and preserve justice."

Santana tilts her head.

"Okay," she drawls slowly, "what exactly do you mean though?"

Brittany looks away sadly, eyes tracing the way Santana is fiddling anxiously with that pendant she had bought her on the very first day.

"You don't want to know."

Santana flings her legs off the side of the bed, feet planted firmly on the carpet and hands gripping the crumpled comforter she was sitting on.

"Stop saying that, please. You like me and I like you – isn't that enough?"

The blonde shakes her head, again.

"You wouldn't like me after you hear the truth."

Santana rises and approaches Brittany slowly, preparing to move swiftly if Brittany bolted. Having reached her, Santana kneels down to pry open Brittany's hands from their firm grip on the back of the chair. Santana kisses both of the blonde's palms before resting their linked hands on Brittany's lap.

"I get that you've gone through a lot with your family and stuff but you can trust me Brittany. You don't have to push me away. I'm here for you."

"I can trust you, I know that, but it's just…" Brittany squeezes their hands tightly. "You really, _really _shouldn't trust me." Santana blinks perplexed.

"You keep saying things like that but I just don't get it-"

"So don't _try_ to get it."

* * *

><p>"Hello?"<p>

"Kayla?"

"Oh, hi, Dianna?"

"No, this is Agent Fabray."

"Oh right sorry, you sound a lot like… anyway, what's up? Have you-" Quinn could hear the sound of swallowing, "Have you solved the case yet?"

"I can assure you that we are very, very close – we need your help."

She can hear shuffling through the receiver as she watches Mike sieve through the large pile of photos spread out on the desk.

"Okay, cool, anything."

Quinn reaches into her jacket to pull out her trusty notepad and pen.

"Right, now you've mentioned before that you saw Jessie with another girl. Do you remember what this girl looks like?" Quinn twirls her pen impatiently, eyes flicking her between Mike's swift motions and the ticking of the hand on the clock.

"Yeah definitely – she was like, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four and really, like _really_ pretty. You know, she had the whole tall blonde with baby-blues thing going on."

"Did Jessie ever tell you her name?"

"Yeah, it was like, oh god what was it… like Bethany? No…Briony…?" Quinn's chest constricts as Kayla mumbles to herself.

"Brittany?"

The sound of Kayla clicking her fingers stabs at Quinn.

"Yes! Brittany – that was it."

Quinn closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, holding it for a few seconds before letting out a shaky breath.

"Okay, so did Jessie tell you anything else, maybe a room number?"

"No, that was it. If anything, she made me promise her I would never bring the topic up or talk about it."

Mike taps Quinn on the shoulder, causing her to look up and see him holding up two photos grimly.

"I can't believe we missed it."

She doesn't recognise the background of the first photo but Brittany is right in the centre, hair tied up in a high ponytail and sticking her tongue out playfully. The second one was clearly taken in the same place but this time the main focus is of Brittany and Jessie, kissing.

Quinn can't help her heart from sinking. A small part of her is recalling how she had bonded with the happy-go-lucky blonde less than a day ago and she'd been holding out on the belief that the newspaper article was unrelated and that even the name could just be a coincidence: there are a lot of 'Brittany's out there. But with this clear photo in front of her, everything is adding up too well and too quickly for Quinn to deny.

"And the hotel?"

Quinn clears her throat, a useless attempt to clear the lump in her throat.

"What was the name?"

* * *

><p>"Why would you even say that? I'm trying to deal with this calmly but you're not making it easy for me."<p>

Santana hesitates, the question swarming in her head.

"Are you cheating on me?"

Brittany blinks and opens her mouth but nothing comes out. Santana feels a wave of crushing disappointment surge through her; it overspills as tears trailing down her cheeks.

"San…"

"No," she sniffs loudly and tries to breathe evenly through her mouth.

"It's… okay. I don't- I don't care, all right? I don't want to share you and fuck knows I'm shit at sharing anything, but –"

Santana shrugs genuinely, a feeble smile playing at her lips.

"But I'm willing to try new things – with you. I mean… who is it? No, don't tell me, I just don't… I just. I…_really_ like you Brittany and I don't think you understand how much."

"You shouldn't."

Santana reaches up to press a finger against Brittany's lips to stop her.

"But I _do._ Even if you sat there and told me that you actually have seven kids back at home or that you're a serial killer or a 67-year-old who has plastic surgery every other day – I will still be here for you. I'm not afraid, do you understand me now?"

* * *

><p>Quinn and Mike all but run across the lobby and to the reception area. Their back-up is waiting outside in five police cars, sirens off, but lights on. They didn't want to spook her now.<p>

"Hello, how may I help-"

"FBI," Quinn simultaneously flashes her badge with Mike at the stunned receptionist. "We need to know which room Brittany Pierce is staying in and the cardkey."

"One moment please." Quinn drums her fingers across the marble desk apprehensively while the woman behind the counter types in various things and clicks around on the system. "I'm afraid we don't have anyone staying with us under this name." The drumming stops.

"What? Did you check properly? Brittany, not like Britney Spears, but spelt with double 't' then 'any'."

"Oh right, sorry one more second please."

If it weren't for Mike's reassuring hand on her shoulder, Quinn would have pulled out her gun and blown this woman's brains all over the place.

"Ah yes, Brittany Pierce – room number 184. It's on the eighth floor."

The woman stands up and hands over the cardkey to Quinn, "You go up by those elevators there, then once on the eighth floor, turn left and go down to the end. Here, don't turn left again, but turn right and then another left. The room is at the very end of the corridor to your left, next to the fire exit."

"Right."

Quinn doesn't have a single hope of remembering those directions but she prays that Mike understood her.

"Radio the others. We're going up."

* * *

><p>Brittany stares at Santana for a good minute. Despite the slight unease and the cramps in her legs from crouching for so long, Santana doesn't flinch or look away, she allows Brittany to search her eyes for whatever it is that she's looking for.<p>

"You mean that?"

If it hadn't been for the complete silence, Santana would have missed the soft, quiet question.

"Yes."

Brittany smiles gently and helps Santana to stand again, guiding her back to sit down on the foot of the large bed. She speaks quietly.

"She smoked – a lot."

Brittany swivels back to the desk; she opens a drawer and takes out a DSLR camera.

"I tried to get her to stop, but she wouldn't listen to me."

"Your mom must have been-" Brittany shakes her head as she puts the straps of the camera around her neck and turns back around.

"The next one wasn't really her own fault – it was her dad's. Everyone thinks that people like him are so much better than the rest of us, just because of what he does for a living. It was personal and he knew it too. I made sure to leave him a souvenir as some advice, a _pointer _I suppose, to never let him forget that he's just the same as all of us."

Santana tilts her head confused.

"Wait what? Who are you talking about?"

The blonde ignores her and switches on the camera, half perched on the table as she slowly goes through the photos.

"The one after was personal too. She was the one who didn't take care of mom properly and ultimately killed her. I was just returning the favor."

Santana shivers, but the room is warm. The eerie calmness that Brittany is radiating is beginning to scare her.

"Britt, I'm not following."

The blonde simply smiles, eyes deep and flat, at Santana and moves to sit on the table properly, legs swinging in the air.

"She said she wanted to be a doctor, but they're not good people. Do you see it now? None of them were good people. I tried to convince her but she persisted. I knew she had a boyfriend, I'm really observant see," Brittany taps her temple, "but I pretended I didn't know and she continued on like nothing was wrong, like the liar she was. So I suppose, she was suited to be one of them – but I guess I never gave her the chance."

Brittany fiddles with the buttons on the camera.

"What…" Santana frowns, utterly baffled and uncomfortable. Something that she can't quite put her finger on. It's making her feel uneasy and her instincts are screaming at her to get the hell out of that room. Being the stubborn person that she is, Santana disregards the flashing warnings in her brain and follows her heart instead, who refuses to leave Brittany on her own.

"It was supposed to be you next."

The words slice across the room.

Brittany suddenly looks up at Santana, a flash of menace in her eyes before they soften into adoration.

"You were meant to be the surgeon who didn't care, didn't want relationships and was a self-centred bitch."

At any other time, Santana would have cracked a joke, but she remains silent, as Brittany carries on.

"It was supposed to be simple – the same steps just like all the others. Buy them some jewellery – bracelet or earrings or necklaces, tell them it matches their eyes if it was cheap – go on a few dates to try and persuade them to change and make some sort of difference to them. They don't really want to change, realise that they there's no hope for them, finish it off and move on."

Santana touches the necklace instinctively, about to tear it off when Brittany laughs quietly and shakes her head.

"But you're everything that I didn't expect you to be. You're a real family girl who genuinely enjoys your job and isn't in it just for the money. You act like a bitch but you have a heart – the biggest and warmest – and you love Quinn and Tina, Ma and Ba, and everyone else including me. I didn't actually expect you to fall for me… just like I didn't expect to fall for you."

Brittany moves to her feet, stepping closer to Santana.

"And this is exactly why we shouldn't be together. Because you turned out to be someone I didn't think you'd be and I'm not the person you think I am."

Brittany stops when she stands between Santana's legs. She bends down into a kneeling position much like the one Santana was in earlier and removes the camera from around her neck. Brittany turns it and encourages Santana to take it from her. With shaky hands, Santana complies and looks at the screen.

It's a woman sleeping peacefully on a large soft bed that Santana recognises, sickly, is the one that she's sitting on right now. Fighting the urge to move away from the bed, Santana swallows and looks closer at the woman. She's vaguely familiar; Santana had seen her a few times over the years at the hospital – it's Sara Carmen Castillo. Santana accidentally drops the camera but Brittany catches it for her straight away. They gaze at each other, Santana full of racing heart and puzzle pieces clicking together while Brittany kneels, hands offering the camera with a dispassionate, determined expression. Unable to speak, Santana shakes her head vigorously but Brittany persists, pushing the camera at her. Reluctantly, Santana takes it and presses to the next photo. The next two have two different women; both looking a bit younger than the first but the background and the relaxed, easy expressions were exactly the same. Santana clicks the next one and her stomach drops – it's the same girl she had met at the Thai place. She stares transfixed on her peaceful, slumbering state, thumb hovering over the next button but unable to press it.

"Go on."

Santana jumps slightly, having almost forgotten that Brittany is still right in front of her with her arms resting casually across Santana's lap. It hasn't quite registered in Santana's mind that Brittany was, no _is_, a _killer_. Looking at her now, wide-eyed and just so _normal,_ pulls at Santana's heart.

"I can't."

Her voice is croakier than she expected. No tears had fallen yet but they start to gather in her eyes, blurring her vision a little.

"You can."

Brittany lifts her hand to cover Santana's one. She gently pushes down Santana's thumb with her own to switch to the next photo.

Santana rips her disbelieving eyes away from the blonde and back to the screen, only to come face to face with the exact same photo as all the rest. But the main focus is herself, lying serenely in the sea of plush pillows and comforters.

"Are you… are you going to…?"

The first tear falls, plummeting down and splashing onto the camera screen. Santana always believed that being faced with the end, she would go kicking and screaming, refusing to lie down and allow the inevitable to happen. However, as she sits there, numb with the weight of her understanding, it just crushes every survival instinct she's ever had.

"No wait, Santana, look."

She has to force herself to blink repeatedly to see through the tears. Brittany moves her thumb to the button with a little dustbin on top of it. She clicks it and a little message asking to go through with discarding the photo pops up. Brittany presses the button again and just like that, the photo of Santana is gone.

"What are you…?"

Brittany takes the camera back and turns it off before throwing it somewhere further onto the bed.

"It means that you've proved me wrong," Brittany reaches out to hold Santana's hand tenderly, ignoring her sweaty palms.

"You're different and you're special. It means that because of you, I understand now how wrong I've been and I feel _sorry_. I've never felt sorry before. For you, I'll stop what I've been doing and we can leave or we can stay in this city if you want to. Anything you want. As long as you're with me, because I love you Santana."

Before Santana can even blink, the door is clicked open before it's slammed against the wall by a powerful kick from Mike. In that split-second when Quinn and Mike are still in the doorway and Brittany is still on her knees, pleading right in front her, Santana wants Brittany to run, fly out the window, whip out a gun, do _anything_ that can get her away from the inevitable outcome. But Brittany remains still, eyes begging for forgiveness and warm hands cradling her own softly. The moment passes, but Brittany stays unfazed as Mike and Quinn barge in, shouting, and point their guns at her.

"Step away from her immediately!"

Brittany ignores Mike's command and leans in to kiss Santana once, ignoring Quinn's warning; so lightly that it steals Santana's breath, before she unhurriedly rises into a standing position, eyes never once leaving Santana's.

"Brittany Pierce, you are under arrest for the suspicion of five murders. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court…"

The rest of Quinn's Miranda Rights blurs into the background, the echo of the handcuffs clasping onto a passive Brittany ringing in her ears. Santana knows, without a doubt, that from the intensity of Brittany's staring, those blue eyes will haunt every dream and nightmare she will ever, ever have.

* * *

><p><strong>4 years later...<strong>

**Monday, 8.00 PM**

Quinn throws down a stack of magazines onto the coffee table, but Puck doesn't even jump, his eyes glued to the TV screen as his hands push various buttons on the controller, causing a little football player to dodge around another player and pass to his teammate. Quinn takes a seat next to him on the couch and rummages through the stack to pull out a list of names, all annotated with arrows and asterisks.

"Okay, do you think your Uncle Gil will mind sitting next to Daniel? I know they had a small argument a while back, but they've probably gotten over it right?"

"Yeah totally," Puck answers offhandedly, eyes flicking to the countdown in the corner and the score before frowning a little and making his player sprint a little faster.

"That's what I thought."

Quinn nods and turns to another sheet of paper that has names littered around circles, "We're going to have to put them nearer to the back – I can't remember speaking to either of them for ages anyways."

"Mm, sounds fine."

Puck leans forward a little, preparing to dive for a touchdown.

"What about Agent Jones? Does he go with your colleagues or mine?"

"Whatever you want."

Just before he can score, a defender emerges out of nowhere and takes him down. Puck groans quietly, head whacking against the back of the couch as the final whistle blows.

"I think he knows mine better." Quinn adds his name around a table, "And there's this other problem, do you think we can get away with-"

"Look babe."

Puck quits back to the main screen before putting his controller down and pulling his fiancé closer to wrap his arms around her.

"Just go with whatever you want. Personally, I'm just waiting for the honeymoon part."

He smirks and presses a kiss against her neck, but Quinn rolls her eyes, slapping his thigh lightly.

"Stop it, the wedding is just around the corner and we still have to-"

"It's half a year away."

"Like I said, it's just around the corner." Quinn frowns at him and places his wondering hands back into his own lap, "And we still have so much to arrange – which guest goes where and which bouquet to use, are kids coming too and is the cake within our budget because I think three tiers is –"

Puck rolls his eyes and kisses her quiet effectively.

"Go with whatever you want, as long as you're there and I'm there then its good enough for me."

He gives her a smitten smile, which Quinn returns, but before he can lean in to kiss her again, music starts playing in Quinn's handbag on the floor.

The blonde disentangles herself and pulls out her ringing phone, glancing at the caller ID.

"It's Santana."

Puck nods and grabs the controller again as Quinn picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, have you seen my leather jacket? You know the one with the gold zips. I've been looking for it everywhere but it's not in my room."

"Oh," Quinn laughs lightly, leaning back into the couch as Puck starts up another game, "That's in my closet."

"God you're always stealing my stuff."

"Tough," Quinn shrugs.

"Keep it then."

"It's your favorite," Quinn raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah well, you'll need something to remind you of me when I'm gone."

There's a brief silence between the two girls.

"Your flight is on Friday, right?"

"Uh huh, going straight to the airport."

"Okay." Quinn bites her lip, "Look Santana, I'm really sorry for about being the one, you know, to put the cuffs on her…."

She can hear Santana scoff through the receiver.

"For fuck's sake Q, when are you going to let that go? It's been 4 years and I've never held that against you. Just need the change of scenery – too much stuff here, you know?"

"I know, it's just-"

"Save it sister. Besides, you already more than made up for it by putting that bastard Anderson away for what he did to Abigail."

Quinn remains silent, knowing that Santana will only get annoyed if she expresses the fact that she still feels guilty, as if she's the reason that Santana is leaving.

"So you're still coming to the dinner on Thursday right?"

"Duh, Ba says he's making all of my favorite dishes."

"Good."

"Yeah."

Quinn's eyes fall on the guest list on her lap, "Oh and by the way, I don't care if you come with British accents and wearing wigs, but you have to make it to my wedding – do I make myself clear?"

"Dear god, that's forever away."

"Santana…"

Quinn frowns, her voice dropping threateningly.

"Puh-lease, do you think I'll miss all the free alcohol there'll be?"

"Glad to know where your priorities lie," Quinn laughs.

"And don't you forget it. Hey, I have to get packing so if you don't hear me from later, I'll see you on Thursday okay?"

"Oh all right, we'll see you then."

"And just so you know, I'm taking your blue cardigan on the back of your chair."

"That's my favorite," Quinn raises an eyebrow, but she can practically feel Santana's smirk.

"I know."

* * *

><p><strong>Tuesday, 7.00 AM<strong>

Santana groans when the persistent door bell doesn't stop ringing. After five minutes, the constant buzz doesn't falter so Santana has to force herself into an upright position, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she stumbles out of her room.

"I'm coming for god's sake, keep it in your pants!"

She takes a peek at the clock and sighs at how early it is – in the past, it was always Quinn who answered doors since her room was closest and she's the early riser of the three of them. Now that Quinn's moved out and Tina practically lives over at Mike's, Santana is forced to answer doors herself.

"Santana!"

Wai Po grins at her and instantly, Santana's frustration and fatigue evaporates.

"_Morning Wai Po_."

She moves aside to allow the older woman in, before closing the door and giving her a tight hug, suddenly aware of the huge back pack Wai Po has on.

"_I made congee this morning_." Wai Po makes her way to the dining table and takes off her back pack, opening it up to pull out a white container. "_I put extra spring onions in it, just how you like it_."

"_Aww, thanks_."

Santana grins and grabs two bowls and two spoons from the cupboards in the kitchen area.

_"Also, it's very cold in England so I brought you this."_ Wai Po pulls out a dark green fleece jacket, "_It will keep you warm."_

Santana's footsteps falter and she almost trips into the table.

_"Thanks, it's lovely."_

She blinks twice and takes in a deep breath to calm herself, before starting to scoop out their breakfast into the bowls.

_"I'm not done yet."_ Wai Po continues to pull a scarf from her rucksack. It's dark green and has an embroidered 'S' on one end. _"I made it last week – it's very long so you can wrap them around a few times to keep warm."_

To prove her point, Wai Po reaches up and secures it around Santana's neck, pulling her hair out afterwards so it isn't trapped underneath the scarf.

"_Oh_." Santana blinks once.

_"There, such a pretty girl."_

_"Wai Po, I –"_ Santana can speak no more as she chokes on her sobs, tears falling and splattering onto the table.

_"Silly girl, you're crying. Come here."_

Wai Po opens her arms and Santana couldn't have flung herself into the embrace any quicker, bawling uncontrollably into Wai Po's shoulder.

_"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I'm leaving you."_

Wai Po simply shakes her head and strokes her granddaughter's back soothingly as a single tear treks down her own face.

_"No you're not, just because you're moving away doesn't mean you're leaving."_ She quickly wipes away her own tear before pulling back and smiling at the still snivelling Latina in her arms. _"You're not trying to get rid of me are you?"_

_"No! Never. I would never do that."_

Santana shakes her head vigorously, forcing herself to breathe slower.

_"Exactly, so it's alright."_

Wai Po helps Santana to sit down in one of the chairs, immediately sitting in the one beside her.

_"But sometimes it just feels like I'm abandoning you, Ma, Ba and everyone else for no reason."_

Santana hiccups as Wai Po pats her head affectionately.

_"You still love her?"_

_"I always will,"_ Santana looks up and despite the redness in her eyes Wai Po can see her sincerity.

_"Then this isn't for no reason, silly. Back when I was young, I had an arranged marriage to this old, rich man, but your Wai Gung and I ran away and we came to America to be together – that wasn't for no reason either. You, at least, are not running away: you have a reason and I can see no better one to do something like this."_

_"You have no idea how much I'll miss you Wai Po."_

_"Trust me, I'll know exactly how you're feeling,"_ Wai Po smiles weakly and hands her the backpack. _"There's another set in there, its pink._" Santana nods, understanding what isn't being said.

_"And I don't mind waking up much earlier to speak to you every day."_

Santana places a hand on top of Wai Po's, squeezing it gently.

_"I'd like that a lot."_

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday, 7.00 PM<strong>

1 new message: Santana  
>Hey I'm getting some paperwork signed and stuff so I can't pick up right now. What's up?<p>

1 new message: Tina  
>Oh okay, ba asks do you want kai-lan or choy-sum tomorrow? x<p>

1 new message: Santana  
>Oooh kai lan sounds great :)<p>

1 new message: Tina  
>K I'll tell him :) hows it going over there? x<p>

1 new message: Santana  
>Ok these dicks are being slow : is Mike coming over tomorrow too?<p>

1 new message: Tina  
>Definitely, everyone will be home x<p>

1 new message: Santana  
>Good + have to say he's a keeper you know<p>

1 new message: Tina  
>I know :) Btw brought you a multi-region dvd player earlier, give it to you tomorrow x<p>

1 new message: Santana  
>That's awesome thanks :) Gonna miss going to work every day with u<p>

1 new message: Tina  
>Don't mention it + same :( you found a job over there? x<p>

1 new message: Santana  
>Ya this hospital like 15 mins away so it's all good<p>

1 new message: Santana  
>Oh forgot to add has that 4 eyes wheels called you recently?<p>

1 new message: Tina  
>Yeah he did actually : he was crying then kept apologising – why? How did you know? X

1 new message: Santana  
>Oh you know I have my ways ;) anyways gtg think they've caught me texting. See you tomorrow then yeah? Byaaa<p>

1 new message: Tina  
>Lol it's like high school all over again :) and ok see you x<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Sunday, 5.00 AM<strong>

**HAPPILY EVER AFTER FOR PRINCESS CHARMING**

50¢ Sunday News April 24 2015

Four years ago, the serial killer dubbed 'Prince Charming' caused terror in the streets of New York City. Young women disappeared, only to be found dead a few days later, dressed immaculately, with flawless hair and make-up in a deserted back-alley. In the end, the killer was caught and revealed to be one Brittany S. Pierce. The killer was in fact, Princess Charming. Pierce was given a ten-year sentence, which was eventually reduced to four for good behaviour and for pleading guilty to all charges. She was released earlier this week. For protection, her identity has been changed, but the current whereabouts of the Princess are unknown.

* * *

><p><strong>Friday, 10.00 AM<strong>

Santana leans against the hood of the car, humming a tune she heard earlier on the radio while driving. Her head flies up when a buzzer goes off in the building in front of her. Her hands tighten around a Styrofoam cup as she watches the guards unlock the gate for a slim, blonde girl to exit. Santana raises a hand when she sees her and the blonde makes a beeline for her.

"Hey," Santana kisses her lightly once before holding out the cup, "Gingerbread latte?"

"Perfect," Brittany takes the cup and sips at it, savoring the taste.

"Shall we?" Santana gestures at the car. She opens the passenger door for Brittany, pretending not to notice how thin the blonde's shoulders are, before hopping into the driver's seat herself.

"I've been practising my British accent – you want to hear?"

"Love to."

Santana smiles and turns on the engine, pulling out of the vacant parking lot as Brittany clears her throat.

"Oh bollocks, the cheeky bugger cocked everything up by just sitting on his bum all day!"

"Good accent, but I have no idea what you just said," Santana laughs and looks over at Brittany – she has bags under her eyes and a light scar at her jaw line that Santana hasn't seen before and her face is drawn, but despite the fatigue, her expression is one of bright excitement.

"You'll get used to it." Brittany smiles before sipping at her drink, "Oh, did you bring –"

"Yep, it's in here." Santana taps at the glove box in front of Brittany. "Have you –"

"Not yet, I'll do it before we get on the plane. Do I really have to –"

"We've gone over this – it's for the best." Santana reaches out to intertwine their hands on Brittany's lap.

"I won't remember it," Brittany pouts, "And I won't know if someone is actually speaking to me."

"You'll get used to it."

Out of the corner of her eye, Santana watches Brittany sigh and clutch her drink tightly with her spare hand as an attempt to soak up the warmth the cup is radiating off.

"Are you cold?"

Keeping one eye on the road ahead, Santana reaches back with one hand and blindly feels around before she comes into contact with a backpack. Making sure the car is straight; she pulls at the strap and lifts it to Brittany's lap.

"What are you doing?"

"Open it up."

Brittany carefully places her drink in the cup holder before complying. Pulling back the zip, she sees a bright pink scarf and a matching jacket inside.

"Is that…?"

"Yeah," Santana nods, "Wai Po spent a whole week making them for us."

It takes Brittany a moment to recollect herself before she yanks out the pink scarf and wraps it around her neck a few times. She closes her eyes as she nuzzles her nose into it, inhaling the scent of love and home.

"It's wonderful."

Santana lifts their joined hands to kiss the back of Brittany's. "Get some rest; I'll wake you when we get to the airport."

"Okay – hey San?"

"Mm?"

Santana glances over at Brittany, whose eyes are already heavy with sleep and hazy with dreams for the future.

"Just you and me, right?"

"Just you and me Britt."

"Cool."

Brittany squeezes Santana hand tightly and keeps hold of it in her lap, before curling her long limbs into a more comfortable position.

"Can't wait."

* * *

><p><em>And there we finally have the ending! Firstly, much thanks for sticking through with this whole fic and even more thanks for commenting and letting me in on your thoughts and feelings. If there are any questions still, do send a message - I'd be more than happy to try and answer. Also like I shamelessly tried to promote in the last chapter, if you're interested in any of my upcoming fics, please check my profile to see what other stories I have done will come soon. Again, thanks for reading and hopefully, you'll here from me soon! :)_


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